


What's To Become of Doctor Smith?

by DrZacharySmith



Category: Lost in Space (TV)
Genre: Espionage and Sabotage, Hurt/Comfort, Smith saves the day!, Super Spy Ninja Training, What won't he do for his family?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-27 05:59:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 84,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13874640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZacharySmith/pseuds/DrZacharySmith
Summary: The Robinsons and Major West have been captured by aliens and the Robot incapacitated, leaving Dr. Smith all alone on an unknown planet. Can he find his family and rescue them in time? (This was originally posted on another site in 2012, but it was suggested I post it here, too. So, here goes!)





	1. Alone

**Disclaimer:** _Being the self-centered, avaricious doctor that I am, I would love to make a fortune from this. Frankly, Meditations of a Galactic Castaway is not selling well enough to keep me in the manner to which I have become accustomed. Howsomever, since I am merely a reluctant stowaway and don't own any part of the Jupiter 2 mission, that is unfortunately impossible. I will have to settle for antagonizing Major West in this little tale for the mere pleasure of it._

Slowly the doctor's mind wandered back to vague awareness. It took a few moments before he regained his bearings. He was in his own bed and the last hazy memory he could recall was of Mrs. Robinson placing a cold, damp cloth on his feverish brow. He brought a hand to his forehead and discovered the cloth still there. Removing it, he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and glanced toward the half-open door and the darkness beyond.

Hesitantly he called out, "Mrs. Robinson? Your patient is awake. I believe my fever has broken."

No response came. Doctor Smith's brow furrowed as an unsettling feeling came over him. It was uncharacteristically quiet. It was then he noticed that the familiar thrumming of the engines was gone.  _Must have landed while I was unconscious_ , he thought to himself. He stood and stumbled to the door, steadying himself against the wall.

"Mrs. Robinson?" He poked his head out the door cautiously and caught something out of the corner of his eye. As he turned his head to see, a small yelp involuntarily escaped his lips. It took a moment for Smith's eyes to recognize the large, dark shadow before him as that of the Robot.

"What are you doing there, ninny! You nearly frightened me to death!"

As soon as Smith said the words, he instinctively knew there wouldn't be a response. He stepped toward the Robot and ran his hand over the dead lights and panels, along the smooth metallic side to where the power pack should be. It was there. The doctor's mind puzzled briefly, until a whiff of acrid smoke teased his nostrils. The familiar smell told him his mechanical friend would most likely not be responding to anything anytime soon.

"Oh, dear," Smith worried aloud. "What happened to you?"

He fumbled around for a few moments until he found the controls for the lights, then inspected the damage to the Robot. Smith's brows raised in alarm as he spotted the tell tale scorch marks of a laser blast.

Smith whirled around. "Will? Penny!" he called as he frantically searched the living quarters for signs of his companions. "Judy?" Finding nobody, he ran to the ladder and climbed to the upper level. "Professor? Major!" As he turned to step onto the deck, he gasped at the scorch marks etched into the floor and walls of the ship. He slowly made his way around the astrogator, his eyes darting left and right, alert for any lingering danger.

He walked toward the open hatch, stopping a few feet from the threshold. Fidgeting with his hands, he stared meekly out into the blackness as his inner coward warred with an urgent sense of concern. A cool night breeze blew in from outside and the conflicted doctor shivered. "I don't like this," he muttered. "I don't like this one bit."

It took a few moments, but concern won out and Doctor Smith took a few reluctant steps outside. Then a few more, until he could see the signs of an unwilling exodus in the dirt around the ship. He followed the tracks as far as his meager courage could take him. Out of sheer desperation, he called out the names of his missing companions several times before both his courage and strength failed him.

Smith hastily retreated to the warmth of the Jupiter 2 and locked the ship up tight. He retired to the familiar safety of the galley and made a cup of tea to calm his nerves. As his trembling hand brought the cup to his lips, he lamented, "I'm all alone."

 **The Doctor's Comments:**   _As you might imagine, sitting in front of a keyboard for hours on end aggravates my delicate back. With the proper motivation, including a kind review or two, I may be inclined to sacrifice my comfort in order to tell the remainder of this tale. The occasional stroke_ to _my enormous ego wouldn't be remiss either._


	2. Robots & Ruminations

After the tea was gone, Smith sat in his bed for several hours bemoaning his fate. It took a while before he spared a thought for the fate of the Robinsons and Major West. His overwrought mind conjured up all manner of cruel and gruesome misfortunes for his friends, overwhelming him with anxiety and worry. Eventually, his emotion spent, he fell into a fitful, but merciful, sleep.

When Smith awoke, he tried to convince himself it was all just a horrible nightmare or perhaps lingering delirium from his illness. The evidence, however, remained as a rude reminder of his new reality. He was utterly alone with little recourse to change that fact.

Smith eyed the Robot again, wanting desperately to get to work fixing him, both for companionship and, hopefully, answers to what happened to his companions. However, as his stomach reminded him, he could not remember his last meal. Sustenance, as it often did for Zachary Smith, would have to take priority.

Having little zeal for culinary experimentation after the evening he'd had, Smith settled for slightly stale muffins slathered in some congealed substance that might have at one time passed for jam. Though palatable, he didn't relish his meal as he usually did. Popping the last bit of muffin into his mouth, he brushed away stray crumbs and headed toward the Robot.

In a matter of minutes, the doctor had removed several panels and started assessing the extent of the damage. He mentally cataloged the parts he'd need, which fortunately so far, he knew were available in the Jupiter 2's inventory. The damage was seemingly confined to a small, concentrated area near the laser blast, but he couldn't be positive until he'd replaced the most obviously damaged parts. He just hoped no short circuit escaped his notice, as he had no desire to see any more of the mechanical man's components go up in a poof of smoke and shower of sparks. Satisfied with his diagnostics, he disconnected the ohmmeter and began methodical removal of damaged wiring and circuit boards.

"It's been a long time, old friend, since I've seen some of these components."

A wry grin briefly tugged at Smith's mouth as memories of his earliest work on the B-9 filtered back into his mind. As he removed each part, he studied it as if it was some archaeological artifact, then placed it in an orderly fashion on a nearby tray.

"I imagine you'd be obsolete on Earth by now," Smith sighed as he struggled with a stubborn screw. "Long since replaced with something smaller, lighter, faster, more capable," he grunted with exertion as the stubborn screw finally gave way, "and probably less expensive."

The doctor patted the Robot's metal hide. "But don't worry," he smiled. "You'll always be state-of-the-art here," he absentmindedly gave a wave of his screwdriver-bearing hand, "as we really have no 'art' to speak of. At some point, I suppose, you'll reach the point at which you can no longer be repaired. Then, I imagine, you will become the galaxy's largest and most expensive coat rack."

Smith frowned. Tossing insults just wasn't the same when the intended victim couldn't hurl back. It just wasn't sporting. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a sleeve and set his screwdriver down on the tray.

"Not that you'd care, but I simply must rest. I haven't been required to be this resourceful in quite some time." He took a seat on the floor near the Robot, folding his hands in his lap. "Unfortunately, I believe it was that resourcefulness that got me into this whole mess in the first place."

Smith imagined how the Robot would respond, probably with a flippant remark that still somehow hit the target of truth much closer to the center than the doctor cared to acknowledge. Even after several years, it still simultaneously annoyed and intrigued Smith as to how the Robot had developed some clearly human characteristics. There was simply nothing in the many functions and subroutines of the Robot's programming that could account for it, at least not to the sophistication he was seeing. He should know, he wrote most of them himself. Clearly, it was due to either an unexpected glitch or the sheer genius of the programmer. Smith decided to choose the latter and be done with it.

The doctor's mind wandered back several years to his time at Alpha Control. Long before the Jupiter 2 was even launched, he'd kept his distance from the crew. " _Just six more casualties in man's quest to colonize space_ ", he thought.  _"What business did man have out there anyway? Why not solve Earth's problems rather than running from them?"_ That was such a strange thought coming from an avowed coward who ran from most of his own problems. In any event, the Jupiter 2 was a necessary sacrifice, he decided, for the good of his bank account and for whatever the aims were of whoever was paying him. If he hadn't thought of it in those terms, he never could have talked himself into it.

Now that he was trapped along for the ride, he depended upon them for his very survival. He briefly considered the concept of karma, wondering if there truly was such a thing, and if this was some cosmic justice for his past misdeeds. "No," he mused aloud. "Justice would have been much harsher." He looked cautiously around, knowing he had no audience, but checking anyway. "Things could be much worse than being stuck with the Robinsons," he decided.

His thoughts turned back to his companions.  _"No, not companions,"_  he thought.  _"Friends."_  He shook his head.  _"No, not friends,"_  he corrected himself once more.  _"Family."_

His mind struggled with the concept. His family, most of it anyway, had shown him about as much love as a pack of rabid wolves fighting over a dead carcass. The Robinsons were so very different. He had tried to kill them and was certain that they knew that. They were not idiots. Still, he did his best to convince them he was not the culprit. He played the fool, played the coward. Well, not so much played the coward as merely gave into his natural instinct to flee from danger while others more courageously fought that urge. After all, running away had on more than one occasion allowed him to see another day. Still, they suffered the fool. They protected the coward. They even tolerated his hubris, to a point. At times, he felt they might even feel genuine affection for him, despite what they knew him to be. He wasn't sure why. He wasn't even sure he cared why. The fact that they did was enough and he admitted to himself that he appreciated it more than he ever could or would express to them. But, that was all gone now.

He shook his head to release the unpleasant train of thought that was gaining momentum in his mind. If he followed that track, he knew he'd end up in a place he couldn't bear. With an audible groan, Smith pushed himself up off the floor, brushing the non-existent dust from his pants. He gazed in the direction of the Robot, the last remnant of his "family", and frowned.

Smith was not normally a patient man. He preferred instant gratification with as little effort on his part as possible. Repairing the Robot would neither be instant nor effortless and it grated on his nerves. With a heavy sigh, he gathered up the tray of damaged components and brought it with him to the storage area. He systematically found each needed part and replaced the damaged with the new, until he had everything he needed on the tray. He grabbed the soldering kit and a welding torch, just in case, and made his way back to the Robot.

Smith set the tray down and puzzled for a moment over which parts to replace first. He picked up an actuator for the Robot's right arm, turning it to the correct orientation for installation. Bracing himself with his left hand on the Robot's side, he inserted his right hand, which held the actuator, into the gaping hole in the front of the Robot. He struggled to see inside the darkness of the confined space and missed seating the component as his hand kept encountering resistance. Finally, he found the proper spot and the base snapped into place with an audible pop.

Securing the ends of the actuator arm was going to be even more difficult in the confined space. His right hand sought the screwdriver on the tray, while his eyes stayed fixed on the actuator within the dim recesses of the cavity. He fumbled blindly for a moment and, not finding the tool, spared a glance at the tray. It took a moment for his mind to register the red smear he saw there. Blood. He examined his hand and quickly found the wound, a neat razor thin cut, no doubt caused by the sharp metal that made up the component bays in the Robot's chest. He hadn't even felt a thing, he still didn't. He looked around and spied droplets of red on the floor, on his clothes, and slowly dripping down the front of the Robot itself.

The doctor took a deep breath and a wry grin formed on his lips. He pointed an accusing finger at the Robot and shook it in mock anger. "You wound me, ninny!" he pronounced with melodramatic flare. "Cut me to the quick, even as you sit there lifeless." He held his wounded hand before the Robot's inoperative visual sensors for effect. "I," he dramatically placed his non-bloodied hand on his chest, "who would breathe life back into your cold, dead transistors once again. How could you?" His brow furrowed and he shot his most wounded look at unseeing mechanical eyes. Then, his features softened and he chuckled softly. Slipping into the Brooklyn accent of his youth, he quipped "That's gratitude for ya."

His brief but self-satisfying performance over, the doctor cleaned the wound, bandaged it, and wiped away the blood from the "crime scene". A quick search turned up gloves thick enough to protect his hands from further damage, but thin enough to not hinder his repairs. He donned them, grabbed the screwdriver, and continued.

After several dropped screws, a few bruised knuckles, and much cursing, the actuator was secure. Next, Smith focused on the circuit boards. As he was about to remove one of the boards from its shiny, silver anti-static wrapping, he remembered he hadn't grounded himself to avoid static discharge, which might harm the sensitive components. He hoped that lapse hadn't already damaged something. He mentally reprimanded himself for having to make so many trips to the storage area as he sought an anti-static wrist wrap. A few minutes later, he returned, secured the device to his left wrist, and grounded the other end.

Smith again picked up the board, still contained in its silver wrapping, and removed it carefully. A quick check of the component bay and the pins on the back of the board confirmed proper orientation for installation.

"This won't hurt a bit, old chum," Smith grinned as he slid the board into place. He encountered resistance, then pushed with equal pressure to both sides of the board, and was rewarded with a "click" as the board was secured. Removing another board from its packaging, he repeated the procedure in another slot.

"Piece of cake," he stated, rubbing his gloved hands together in satisfaction.  _Cake._  He salivated slightly and moistened his lips as he imagined one of Mrs. Robinson's delicious chocolate cakes baking in the galley. He could almost smell the aroma.

"Stop it, Zachary," he chided himself, the tone of his baritone voice serious. "Keep your mind on the task at hand. Your survival, and perhaps your sanity, depends on it."

As the last in the array of circuit boards was snapped into place, the doctor's efforts turned to repairing the wiring. He sat there, befuddled for a moment at the jumbled bird's nest of burnt wires. Then, calling upon a talent he kept to himself for the obvious intellectual advantage it gave him, he closed his eyes and mentally flipped through schematics of the Robot's innards he had seen just once before. His formidable memory presented the correct schematic and he analyzed it one section at a time.

Flipping open a small pocket knife, he set to work scraping insulation off two wires dangling from the Robot's chest cavity. He twisted the exposed wires together, then grabbed the soldering iron. Priming the tip of the iron with a little solder, he held the device to the wires and expertly guided the flowing metal alloy across the whole connection. He paused to let the joint cool and then ran his fingers over the length of it, feeling for any exposed wiring. Satisfied with the job, he tore off a piece of black electrical tape from the roll on the tray and tightly wrapped it around the soldered connection.

Referring frequently to the schematic that had until recently been tucked away in the dark recesses of his brain, he worked section by section, wire by wire, for hours until the last connection had been repaired. Standing up, he placed both hands on his lower back and stretched the kinks out as best he could. As he wiped the sweat from his brow with a sleeved forearm, his stomach reminded him that he'd foregone lunch to finish his task.

Smith took a quick inventory of the food supplies before he prepared his lunch. The supply was adequate, but the variety was sorely lacking, especially for a man of his refined tastes. He would remedy that with a supplement of fresh fruit and vegetables, if this planet had any, once the Robot was in working order and could help him. As he had with breakfast, he ate his meal quickly. He was anxious to test the Robot to see if his repairs had been successful.

Eagerly, he walked to the Robot and admired his handiwork once more before he closed up the Robot's chest cavity with the various panels he had removed to gain access. Smith checked the panels once more to make sure they were secure then took a deep breath. "The moment of truth." He powered up the Robot. Several lights on the Robot's panel lit up and flickered while many remained dead.

 _Failure._  The word echoed in his mind. "Damn!" Smith cursed and slammed his hand into the Robot in frustration. Immediately, the Robot's bubble popped up and his panels lit up like a Christmas tree. The familiar whirring of his various motors and sensors broke the tense silence.

"Ugh. Did anybody get the license plate of the truck that hit me?" the Robot groaned.

A smile tugged at the doctor's lips. "I was hoping  _you_  could tell  _me_."

The Robot swiveled to face him. "Doctor Smith, where are the others?"

"Taken," Smith stated, his brief smile replaced with a frown. "I don't know when, why, or by whom, but I have surmised how. By force. Their laser weapons knocked you out of commission. I've spent the last nine hours repairing you."

"Thank you," the Robot offered.

Smith simply nodded in acknowledgment. Several moments passed in silence before the Robot asked, "Are you ok, Doctor Smith?"

Having not received a response, he began to repeat his question, when Smith cut him off with a wave of his hand, "I'm fine. I'm fine."

The Robot knew from analysis of the doctor's voice and body language, that wasn't quite the truth, but he let it pass.

"First thing's first," Smith continued. "Systems check."

"All systems in working order and performing within acceptable parameters," the Robot reported. "You really did a fine repair job," he added.

"That's enough," Smith said gruffly. "We have work to do."

The Robot studied Doctor Smith again. It had been several minutes already and he hadn't been insulted. That in itself was odd, but the fact that Doctor Smith had minimized all efforts to praise him for his repair work also concerned him. Doctor Smith was the one crew member of the Jupiter 2 he could never really completely figure out and today was no exception. Just when he thought he had, the doctor would behave in ways completely different from the established norm. He would have to keep his sensors glued to the man.

Smith paced back and forth in front of the mechanical man, his hands clasped behind his back. The Robot swiveled in unison with the doctor's motion in order to keep him within sight of his visual sensors. He questioned the Robot as if he were a witness to a crime, which essentially, he was. "What do you remember about the attack on the Jupiter 2?"

The Robot immediately related his experience on that fateful night. "Professor Robinson, Mrs. Robinson, and Major West were on the level above. My sensors detected several aliens in the vicinity, approaching the ship. I sounded a warning and was about to enter the lift when Professor Robinson commanded me to stay down here to protect the rest of the family. I complied with his command. I cannot report for certain what happened above, but my audio sensors detected laser fire. The aliens demanded weapons be dropped or Mrs. Robinson would be killed. My sensors indicate they complied and Mrs. Robinson was unharmed."

Smith released an audible sigh of relief. He was about to ask another question when the Robot continued.

"Several of the aliens then came down to the lower level. Before I could charge my defensive systems, they had captured Judy Robinson. They handled her very roughly. When Will Robinson tried to intervene, the leader shot him. The last thing I remember..."

Smith abruptly stopped his pacing, "Will? They shot Will?"

"Affirmative."

Smith trembled, a little from fear, but mostly from anger. His knuckles grew white as he unconsciously clenched his fists tight. "Was he...?" His jaw clenched tight, refusing to speak the last word.

"Killed? Negative. My last scan before I was rendered inoperative indicated his wound was survivable," the Robot reported.

Smith's clenched fists and jaw relaxed a bit at the news. "They wouldn't have bothered to take him otherwise," Smith surmised. "Was anyone else harmed?"

"Not to my knowledge."

"I don't suppose you know where they were headed," Smith asked.

"Negative. However, they approached from the northeast. It is safe to assume that is the direction to which they returned."

Smith stood silently, his hands fidgeting as he mulled things over in his mind.

"We must rescue them, Doctor Smith," the Robot stated plainly.

When Smith didn't respond, the Robot continued, "If you won't, I will. They may not mean as much to you, but they are my family," the Robot pronounced as he headed toward the lift.

"Wait!" Smith held his hand up, commanding the Robot to stop. He was loathe to admit it, especially to the Robot, but the Robinsons were his family now, too. Had he the courage, he would have gone after them the very second he discovered them missing. But he didn't. Grimacing slightly, as if the words were being forcibly extracted from him, he finally admitted, "You are not the only one who holds some affection for the Robinsons, my mechanical friend. But, we cannot just go running off after them without any preparation."

"I am prepared," the Robot countered.

"You may be prepared, but I am not. In case you've forgotten, I am human. A human that is still recovering from some unknown alien virus..."

"It's your fault you contracted it, Doctor Smith. You shouldn't have sneaked in to Will and Penny's rooms in an attempt to treat them. Mrs. Robinson had everything..."

"Silence, you ninny!" Smith commanded as his hand went up again to forestall any more off-topic discussion. The Robot complied with his order. "As I was saying, I need supplies: food, water, and medical. We need some semblance of a plan. And most of all, we need to learn everything we can about our new foe."

"You are right," the Robot conceded. "It would be best if the two of us prepared and planned, together."

Smith simply nodded in response.

\----------------------------------------------------

 **The Doctor's Comments:** _After such diligent, back-breaking work, I simply must rest. I fear my next update may be delayed as I recover. In the meantime, your opinions of my memoirs are certainly appreciated. I also accept cash, gems, and precious metals... especially platinum._


	3. Rocket Man

The following day, the Robot discovered a source of fresh water and set about purifying it and refilling the storage tanks of the Jupiter 2. At the same time, Doctor Smith located several berry bushes and wild fruit trees. He brought back several samples and analyzed them to see if they were fit for human consumption. He resisted the temptation to sample them before analysis was complete for fear another illness would delay their rescue mission, possibly permanently. Once a few of the fruits were deemed edible, he secured several large baskets full for the Jupiter's stores and packed some for the journey to wherever the Robinsons had been taken. He also packed several canteens of water and a few critical medical supplies.

The Robot rolled up to Doctor Smith as he was finishing packing the last of the supplies. "Doctor Smith, I will go scout the surrounding areas to see if I can discover where the aliens went."

"Wait. Do your sensors detect anything within a 10 mile radius?" the doctor queried.

"Negative," the Robot replied. "No alien life forms, buildings, or other structures."

"Then it will take you far too long to scout than I wish to wait," Smith replied. He pointed to the mountain just north of their campsite. "If I were a betting man, I would bet any alien structures in the vicinity could be seen from such a height."

"Doctor Smith, you ARE a betting man," the Robot pointed out. "However, you are probably correct. Are you really going to scale that mountain?"

"Me?" Smith placed a hand on his chest. "Scale that?" He nodded toward the mountain. His hands then moved to his lower back. "No. My back is too delicate today," he said with a smirk. "I was thinking of using the space pod. It could easily attain such a height quickly and record whatever is seen."

"The hatch was damaged during landing. It will not open," the Robot explained. "There is no way to access the space pod until the hatch is repaired."

Having no desire to spend any more time on repairs, Smith eyed the mountain and grew weary just thinking about the immense effort, not to mention time, it would take to scale it. He shook his head and muttered to himself. "There has to be an easier way." His mind attacked the problem from every possible angle, leaving out climbing as an option. The only possible solution left then was almost equally as detestable. Almost. Therefore, it was the only solution available to him.  _The jet pack._  He wrinkled his nose in distaste at the thought of strapping himself into that contraption. He had no other choice, so he resigned himself to the adventure. He hesitated to even mention his plans to the Robot. He knew what the response would be. But, he screwed up his courage, put on his game face, and announced, "What about the jet pack?"

The Robot emitted an odd, wheezing sound that the family had come to interpret as laughter.

"What's so funny, you cackling cannister?" Smith asked indignantly.

The Robot abruptly stopped laughing. "You are serious about using the jet pack?"

"Why not? It seems easy enough. If Professor Robinson can master it, so can I," the doctor boasted.

"The jet pack is not very easy to control, Doctor Smith. It takes much practice and skill. Professor Robinson is trained to use it. You are not," the Robot warned.

"Do you doubt my abilities?" Smith snarled.

The Robot remained silent. From many prior conversations with the doctor, he recognized this as an argument he couldn't win. No matter how he answered, the doctor would still do what he wanted to do, despite his protestations. He didn't wish Smith to come to harm, but neither did he want to incur his wrath.

Smith glared at the Robot for a few seconds and then entered the Jupiter 2 to retrieve the jet pack. He emerged a few minutes later with the apparatus, wearing a jacket and helmet. Handing the jet pack to the Robot, Smith turned around to slip his arms through the harness straps. He secured the harness and double checked everything. Grasping the handles of the device, he walked into the clearing.

He studied the controls on the two handles. Both looked very much like joysticks on an old fashioned arcade game. Placing an index finger on the left control, he cautiously bent the stick forward and then moved it around in circles. He heard the faint noise of the nozzles in the back, shifting position in response to his movements. "This must be the rudder," he concluded.

"Yaw control," the Robot corrected. "You were in the Air Force for 16 years, not the Navy. You should know that."

"I'm a doctor, not a pilot," Smith shot back. "Anymore..." he muttered under his breath. "And this must be the throttle." He attempted to move it as he had the yaw control, but it didn't budge.

"You have to twist it, like you would a motorcycle throttle," the Robot offered.

"Ah!" he said, understanding exactly what the Robot meant. Grasping the handle firmly, Smith gave it a quick and thorough twist. The Robot heard a loud shriek which quickly shrank in volume as the doctor rocketed skyward.

"Doctor Smith!" the Robot yelled after him. "You forgot the binoculars," he groaned, as he lifted one red claw holding the equipment.

Smith released the throttle as if he had just burned his hand on a hot stove, realizing too late that was the worst possible action to take. He plummeted back toward the planet until he again twisted the throttle, more gently this time. He hovered a few seconds, taking deep breaths to regain his composure and calm his pounding heart, then slowly began his ascent again. He practiced ascending and descending a few hundred feet at a time until he felt comfortable with the control.

Having gained enough confidence in the use of the throttle, Smith experimented with the yaw control to guide himself toward the looming mountain. He gently pressed the stick to the left. He quickly shot much farther left than he had anticipated and leaned right trying to compensate, which didn't work. He slammed the stick to the right and the quickly overshot his intended target again. Feeling slightly nauseous from the motion, he simply hovered for a few moments, wiping the thin sheen of perspiration from his forehead with his left hand. He had to give the Professor credit. This was much harder than it looked.

Try as he might, no matter how gently he worked the yaw control, he constantly moved much farther than he anticipated. Frustrated, he moved the stick hard forward, only letting up when the mountain was nearly close enough to touch. Smith noticed the smaller lever on top of the yaw control and moved it experimentally with his thumb. He smiled as he realized finer adjustments could be made with the smaller lever. He moved the small lever back until he'd moved back to a point where he was sure he'd clear the rocky outcropping above. Then he continued ascending until a small flat area on the top of the mountain came into view. Focusing intently on the landing target, he slowly and patiently worked the controls, moving toward the spot in small increments until finally his feet touched ground.

He was so elated to be on solid ground again, he was tempted to kneel down and kiss the dirt, but quickly realized the bulk of the pack made such a gesture much more of a chore than he cared to perform. He looked out to the horizon on the other side of the mountain from their camp. Realizing he'd need some optical help, he searched his person for the binoculars and quickly realized he'd left them behind.

He released a string of expletives and then fortified himself for the trip back. Since he was headed for a large flat area around the camp and not a small target on a mountain top, he wasted no time on precision control. He landed about 30 feet from the Robot, quickly covered the rest of the ground on foot, and snatched the binoculars from the Robot's claw. "I'll be needing these." He draped them around his neck and was off again into the wild blue yonder.

Smith's ascent to the mountain top went much smoother than his first attempt. He reached altitude quickly and guided the jet pack forward towards his previous landing spot. He noticed he was starting to lose altitude, so he gave the pack a little more throttle. That had the opposite result and he began to panic. He quickly realized the jet pack was running out of fuel, so he jammed the left control hard forward, hoping he made it to ground before he started free falling.

The pack sputtered and quit all together as Smith reached a small ledge below the landing spot. He landed hard against the mountainside, nearly knocking the wind out of him. He clawed to gain a hand hold, but soon realized the controls of the jet pack were making that impossible. He slid precariously close to a sharp drop off. While his left hand held on for dear life, his right hand fumbled desperately to release the harness. He barely heard the click of the catch releasing over the pounding of his heart. He shrugged his right arm out and quickly grabbed at the loose earth trying to secure himself. Then he held his left arm out and let the entire pack drop. It skidded over the ledge and bounced off the rocky outcroppings below, flipping end over end before coming to rest in a crevice. He wasn't sure whether to mourn the loss or wish good riddance to the contraption.

Smith dug his toes in and pushed upward while his hands scrabbled in the loose dirt. He grabbed an exposed root and tested it. It held and he grasped it firmly. With a secure hand hold, he pulled himself up, his arms finally gaining purchase on the flat ground above. In one last burst of effort, he shoved himself up and rolled over the ledge to find himself yards from his chosen landing spot. He came to rest spread eagle on his stomach, not bothering to move until his heart stopped pounding. He let out a despondent moan when it suddenly occurred to him that the loss of the jet pack meant he'd have to climb down the mountain.

Putting the thought out of his mind for the moment, he pushed himself up to a sitting position. Immediately, the strap of the binoculars, which were hanging down his back, dug into his neck. He struggled with the tangled strap for a moment before finally freeing himself. He stood and brought the binoculars to his eyes, looking to the northeast, the direction the Robot had said the aliens had come from.

In the distance, some 15 miles or so away he judged, he saw a small hill that seemed to have some sort of complex built around it. Fortified, by the looks of it. It was too far away to distinguish if there were any aliens, or humans, there, but it was the best and only place to start looking at the moment. He swept the binoculars across the horizon, not finding any more alien-made structures. He focused back on the hill and studied the complex for a few moments more, mentally calculating the best route to take based on the terrain.

Smith settled the binoculars on his chest, placed his hands on his hips, and set his mind to calculating the best route off the mountain with no rope, no pick, no crampons, no knife, no flashlight, no matches, no canteen, no food, no gear whatsoever... except fairly useless binoculars. He turned in a circle, trying to decide which direction to study first. He looked for what he hoped was a gentle slope and walked as close to the edge as he dared. Peering over, he found a sheer cliff. "What have you gotten yourself into, Zachary?" he said aloud, no one there but himself to hear it.

Small pebbles his boot had knocked loose showered over the edge, ticking against the cliff face as they fell. Smith backed slowly away and walked toward the southern end of the mountain top. There he found a more promising slope. Daunting, but probably not impossible. He still hoped there was something better, an elevator he had perhaps overlooked. He spent the better part of half an hour studying all sides of the mountain before he decided on the southern route.

Afternoon was slowly waning and Smith had no desire to spend the night on the mountain. He had to get started soon if he wanted to avoid climbing in the dark, though with the three thousand feet or so he had to traverse, chances were he'd still be on the mountain after dark anyway. Even so, he lingered a few minutes more on the peak, absolutely dreading the task before him. The next time he had cause to make repairs to the Robot, he was definitely considering upgrading him with a rocket pack, which would come in handy for emergencies such as this.

Cautiously, Smith sat down and took a deep breath. He rolled onto his stomach, slowly pushed himself over the side, and lowered himself down to the first ledge, some nine feet below. He slid down the slope and sighed in relief when his feet met solid ground. He claimed a small victory and he brushed the dirt from his hands. "Well, Zachary ol' boy, only two thousand nine hundred and ninety one feet to go!"

The ledge was fairly wide, about four feet, and continued alongside the mountain in a gradual grade for a few hundred feet before it ended in a drop off. Smith traveled the length of the short trail looking for the next advantageous spot to negotiate. He found a promising incline that he could traverse fairly easily for several hundred feet. Standing sideways to the incline, he placed one booted foot in the loose dirt. It slid a few inches and then gripped the newly packed earth beneath it. He took a step with his other foot. Slowly and methodically, he worked his way down the grade sideways, occasionally slipping and planting a hand to steady himself. He could see a small meadow at the bottom and promised himself a rest when he reached it.

Eventually, one dirty boot trampled down newly sprouted grass, then another, and soon Smith's entire backside plopped down at the edge of the meadow. He licked his dry lips and silently cursed himself for neglecting to bring a canteen. Then he cursed himself for neglecting to check the jet pack's fuel levels before he took off with the binoculars.

After a short rest, though not long enough for Smith's standards, he continued his descent. He encountered a few small challenges along the way, resulting in a nice collection of scrapes and bruises, but nothing that he couldn't handle.

Around dusk, he came to his greatest challenge yet. He had scrambled up a large boulder, which, he knew from earlier study higher on the mountain, led to well worn path that meandered all the way down the rest of the mountain. He was almost home free. What he had not seen while further up the mountain was the ten foot gap in the middle of the trail created by some long forgotten landslide. He shook his head dejectedly, almost ready to resign himself to a night on the mountain, if not longer. The wind picked up and, despite his jacket, it cut into him. He stood near the gap, just staring into it. The longer he stared, the bigger it looked. He looked around, hoping for another option, but finding none. He had climbed himself into a corner, as it were.

Smith slid a weary hand along his lightly stubbled face. He agonized. He paced. He peered into the abyss. He did everything but face the challenge head on. His inner coward wouldn't let him, it had him in a vice grip and wasn't letting go so easily. Scaling such heights with a jet pack on your back was one thing. Flinging yourself into space without absolute certainty you'd land safely on the other side was quite another.

He mulled the choices in his head one more time. Don't take a chance and die on the mountain. Do take a chance, fail, and die on the mountain. And the long shot, take a chance, make it, and live to see another day. That, of course, was his favorite, but the odds were long. Suddenly, he realized that there were six other lives that rode on his decision. That only tormented him further.

He argued with himself for a few more minutes, then cursed loudly, realizing he was about to commit himself to something that every fiber of his being screamed loudly at him not to do. He set the binoculars down so they wouldn't prove a hindrance. They were now just one more piece of lost equipment to add to the growing list. He sprinted toward the gap as fast as he could and leaped with all the strength his weary legs would afford him. The landing was bone rattling, but he managed to end up with most of his torso on solid ground. As he tried to pull himself up, he lost ground, inching toward the abyss. The growing wind did nothing for his concentration or grip. One particularly strong gust actually pushed him backwards and he grasped desperately at his shrinking real estate. His feet searched frantically for something solid, but found only air.

Out of his peripheral vision, Smith saw a large shadow rise up next to him. He had more important things to worry about, so he paid it little attention. If it was some large winged scavenger, it probably wouldn't have to wait much longer anyway. Just then, a few inches of the ledge gave way and he lunged forward to catch the remaining ledge with his hands. He sat there dangling, knowing he had but seconds left, when over the roar of the wind he heard, "Doctor Smith, care for a lift?" He turned his head as best he could and caught sight of the space pod, the Robot at its controls. He nodded, eyes wide with fear.

The Robot positioned the space pod close enough for Smith to plant a boot firmly inside. He carefully raised the pod a little, allowing the doctor to use the new foothold to get better position on the ledge. He held out a red claw for Smith to grasp. Smith reached out a hand and grasped the Robot's claw, while simultaneously pushing off with the other hand. He wobbled inside the door frame, gravity threatening to pull him back out, before the Robot shot out his other claw and pulled him inside the hovering craft. The hatch quickly closed behind him. Smith threw his arms around his cybernetic savior and held on tight, thankful to finally be grasping something solid, even if it was the ninny.

After a few moments, Smith looked up towards the Robot's bubble and slowly removed his arms from around him. "No one is to know of this," he stated.

"It's forgotten," the Robot replied. He knew full well how the doctor operated. This was an ordeal so traumatic Smith did not want it to be mentioned again, especially his uncharacteristic display of thanks. He would comply, but it warmed his sensors just to know the doctor was truly grateful.

The Robot steered the space pod back to camp. When Smith had sufficiently recovered, he asked how he had managed to get the space pod out of the Jupiter 2. The Robot told him that he had started repairs to the damaged hatch as soon as Smith left with the binoculars.

"It took me most of the day," the Robot explained. "Since you had not returned by the time I was finished, I became concerned for your safety and came searching for you."

Smith simply nodded and looked quietly out the portal for the rest of the short trip.

\--------------------

 **The Doctor's Comments:**   _It's a pity the Robinsons will never know the lengths I've gone to extricate them from their precarious position. It just wouldn't do for them to discover how resourceful and capable I really can be. They might require me to use that resourcefulness on a regular basis and engage in activities to which I'm highly allergic... work. However, you, dear reader, now know the real truth. Feel free to leave a kind review of my harrowing adventure._


	4. Together Again

The Robinsons and Major West, meanwhile, stuck close together in the confines of the camp their alien captors had brought them to. They had spent the majority of their first day there, with a host of other unfortunate aliens, being processed in, which included decontamination and interrogation. And then there was the paperwork. It seems bureaucracy wasn't something unique to Earth.

The Robinson's primary concern was Will, who had only regained consciousness a few times since their capture. They did their best to tend to his wound, but getting medical attention for prisoners was near impossible. Their secondary concern was Doctor Smith. He had been ill when they had been captured and for all they knew, he still was, with no one to tend to him as they had Will and Penny. He was on an unfamiliar world with no one else for support. At least the six of them had each other. Smith had no one, not even the Robot.

The Professor and Major West spent some time milling about the alien prisoners, gathering what information they could about why they were there and what might possibly happen to them. Communicating with their fellow prisoners was difficult, as many of the translating units in the stockade were damaged beyond functioning, probably by some irate prisoner venting his anger. Despite the language barriers, the two did manage to glean some information.

The aliens that had captured them were not native to this planet. They were called the Amnasi and apparently used this planet as a staging area for their raids on other nearby planets. They brought back resources and many unfortunate aliens as slaves to help build infrastructure there, including their leader's elaborate palace. Their goal was conquest, to expand their small empire in this region of space. Their leader was Mal J'hat, who had a reputation as a ruthless tyrant who thrived on instilling fear in both his prisoners and his own people. He was the youngest son of the leader of their home world, ordered by him, like his elder brothers, to different reaches of the galaxy to conquer and build. Being the youngest, and truth be told, least liked by his father, he had been sent to essentially the backwaters of the Amnasi empire.

The majority of the prisoners seemed quite fearful of Mal J'hat. Just the mention of his name caused consternation. This didn't escape the notice of Professor Robinson or Major West. They relayed all the information they'd learned to the others and suggested they all keep their eyes and ears open for any other intel.

Mal J'hat waited impatiently in his quarters for a report on the humans they had captured. When the report came, it confirmed what he had already surmised. The humans were quite the oddity among the multitude of aliens they had captured. They had no scales or reptilian features like his own species, they had very little hair in comparison to the other mammalian aliens he'd encountered, and they had no natural defenses like claws or fangs. In other words, he felt them to be weak and vastly inferior. If they couldn't perform the tasks he had planned for them, at least he could have some fun with them.

Back at the Jupiter 2, Smith and the Robot were getting the Chariot ready for the trip to the alien base. Smith packed enough food, water, and other necessities for a few days. He also packed medical supplies such as bandages, antibiotics, and pain medications, the sort of thing to treat injuries due to laser blast.

The last thing to be loaded onto the Chariot was the Robot himself. The task was somewhat arduous for one human, especially for one with so delicate a back, as Smith quite often reminded the Robot, but he endured the hardship for the sake of companionship and, if need be, a sounding board.

Doctor Smith settled into the driver's seat of the Chariot and the two set off toward the alien compound. He navigated a circuitous route that would conceal their approach and kept their speed down to avoid kicking up telltale dust. Smith brought the Chariot to rest behind a small rocky outcropping on a hill, which he climbed to use as a vantage point with which to spy on the alien compound.

As Smith positioned himself, the Robot handed him the binoculars which they had recovered earlier that morning with the aid of the Space Pod. Smith lay prostrate and propped himself up on his elbows as he peered at the alien compound through the binoculars. From this closer proximity, several details that were not discernible from the mountain top became very apparent, such as the thickness of the walls, the lasers positioned in the recessed turrets, and the electrified fence.

The doctor trudged down the hill toward the clearing at the bottom, the Robot following slowly and carefully behind. Smith stopped short of the edge of the forest and brought the binoculars to his eyes again. After a few moments, he lowered the binoculars and shook his head.

The Robot gave voice to the very same thoughts running through Doctor Smith's head. "It's guarded better than Fort Knox."

"It seems the only possible means of entrance is to let them capture me," Smith mused.

"An excellent idea," the Robot replied.

Smith turned and regarded his mechanical companion. "A horrid idea," he retorted.

"But you will have to do it."

Smith sighed in resignation. "But... I will have to do it."  _William needs me_ , he thought to himself.

He stood there in thought for a few moments before a red claw shot out and shoved him into the clearing. Smith dropped the binoculars and stumbled a few steps before he fell flat on his face. He rolled over on to his back, prepared to verbally abuse his attacker when out of the corner of his eye, he spotted movement. He turned to see two armed guards quickly approaching. He pushed himself up, brushed himself off, muttering a few choice obscenities as he did so, and prepared to delicately extricate himself from the trouble the Robot had just gotten him into.

Smith studied the guards, who in turn studied him as they approached. They wore black uniforms of a thick, leather-like material, complete with chest plates, and heavy gloves, which on further inspection appeared to be gauntlets. Helmets with dark visors concealed the guards' faces. A short antenna swept backward on the side of the helmet about where the ear would be, if the guards had been human. Smith deduced correctly that someone back at the base had already been alerted by radio communications that an intruder had been discovered near the gates.

The guards leveled their weapons at the doctor and he visibly stiffened at the unspoken threat. Smith held out his hands, palms up, in a gesture he hoped they'd see as non-threatening. "There's no need for violence, gentlemen." He waved his hand casually, "You see, I was just out for a stroll, when..."

Smith's explanation was cut short as a laser rifle was shoved into his ribs. The guard's words were short, succinct, and judging from the artificial sounding voice emanating from the helmet, translated by some device. "No talking. You are under arrest."

The other guard pulled a pair of well worn and slightly rusty manacles from a pack on his partner's back and slapped them around Smith's wrists. The doctor winced as the cold, rough metal irritated his delicate flesh. The rifle wielding guard made his way behind Smith and shoved him forward with the barrel of the rifle. The doctor complied with the silent command, sparing only the briefest of glances backward at the Robot, who was well camouflaged in the midst of the trees.

The other guard grabbed him at the elbow and escorted him toward the gates, still quite a hike away. Smith's body and mind instinctively wanted to offer resistance, but he knew at this point, it wouldn't be wise. Besides, it was all part of his plan, he reminded himself... his poorly thought out and previously rejected plan that went no further than being captured.

One of the guards appeared to be in conversation with someone inside the complex as they walked. Had the translation device been engaged, the doctor would have learned of orders to take him directly to the stockade, foregoing the usual procedures, as no contamination had been found on the other humans and they'd already built a dossier on him with knowledge gleaned from the raid on the Jupiter 2.

Smith marveled at the size of the fortresses' walls and the grandeur of the buildings within the complex, his head moving from side to side to take it all in, as if he were watching a tennis match. This civilization clearly did nothing on a small scale. The stockade, where they were taking him, left little open to the elements due to the harsh desert climate. The area extended back into massive caverns in the hillside, where most of what was deemed "living quarters" were. The guards shoved Smith through the entrance to the stockade, which caused him to lose his footing. He hit the ground on his right side and slid to a stop at the feet of Major West.

"You always know how to make an entrance, Smith," West teased.

Smith scowled and grabbed the dangling chain of West's shackles to pull himself up to a sitting position, nearly toppling the Major in the process.

Smith wasted no time on petty bickering or slinging barbs. "Where are the others?"

West pointed towards the back of the cavernous room behind him. "Back there. They've kept us all together so far." He offered Smith a hand getting up.

Standing eye to eye, the doctor asked the question that had been on his mind since the Robot had revealed the details of the Robinson's capture. "How is Will?"

West could tell by the doctor's concerned tone that he not only knew about Will's injury, but the severity as well. That meant he had managed to repair the Robot, the only witness left behind on the ship.

"He's doing as well as to be expected in a place like this," West replied. "C'mon, I'll take you to him."

West led the way through crowds of milling prisoners. If the situation had been different, Smith would have marveled at the assortment of different alien beings contained in the stockade and perhaps recoiled at some of the less attractive and bizarre varieties. As it were, he focused on the one task before him and his eyes sought through the crowd, looking only for William. Within a few moments, he spotted the familiar faces of John and Judy Robinson. Next to them, sitting on what passed for a bed in this prison, was Maureen Robinson, tending to her son.

Smith stepped up his pace and quickly passed Major West. He kneeled at the bed next to Maureen. "How is he?" he asked almost rhetorically as he checked Will's carotid pulse and pupil reaction. He didn't bother to wait for an answer and moved on to assess the wound left by the laser, taking care to not let his manacles touch it.

"Doctor Smith?" Mrs. Robinson was taken aback for a second, as was the rest of the family, at the unexpected and unceremonious arrival of the missing member of their party. Despite their relief Smith was ok, the family didn't dare interrupt the doctor's ministrations for a proper greeting.

"He hasn't been conscious much. We've been doing what we can, but they won't give us any medical aid or send the doctor," Mrs. Robinson supplied.

"The wound's infected," Smith announced, as he removed his hand from Will's feverish forehead. "Do you have any water? Perhaps some clean towels?" he requested.

"Yes. We have water. Judy?" Mrs. Robinson requested the family's ration from her eldest daughter. Judy quickly brought the water container to the bedside. "No clean towels, I'm afraid."

"That's ok. We'll make do," Smith pronounced. Seeing the concern in Mrs. Robinson's face, he patted her hand, smiled softly, and whispered, "Never fear. Smith is here." Those words had never reassured her before, but somehow they did now. She cracked a small smile that expressed her relief.

He held his hands out and directed Judy to pour a small amount of water in them. He washed his hands as best he could, though they were far from sterile. He flicked his hands to remove the excess water and looked quickly around the room, as if making sure the coast was clear. Then, he unzipped his sleeves and removed several packets containing what appeared to be antibiotic ointment, a few different types of medication, and some gauze.

A grin crept across Major West's face when he saw the doctor's concealed cargo. It occurred to him that it was rather fortuitous, and most likely not a coincidence, that the good doctor just happened to be captured with those supplies tucked away on his person. He made a mental note to ask Smith about it later.

Smith cleaned Will's wound as thoroughly as possible, applied the ointment and covered the wound again. He gently patted Will's face to try to bring him around. The boy moaned softly and Smith requested Mrs. Robinson's aid in moving Will to a sitting position as carefully as possible. He opened a few of the other packets and gathered a mix of pain medication and oral antibiotics in his hand. He once again requested a small bit of water from Judy and directed Will to take the medications he offered, along with the water. Once Will had done so, they rested him back against the bed again.

"That should bring down the fever and help with the pain," Smith explained.

Mrs Robinson placed a hand on his arm and gently squeezed. "Thank you."

Smith smiled, but before he could respond, the Professor addressed him. "For once, we're certainly glad to see you, Doctor Smith."

Smith suppressed a grin and stood to face the Professor. "Despite the circumstances, I'm glad to see you all as well."

Major West decided at that moment to satisfy his curiosity. "So, Smith, I've been wondering about something. You just happened to have medical supplies hidden on you when you were captured?" Major West asked suspiciously.

"Indeed. My dear Major, if you'd experienced the adventures I have in the past few days, you'd have medical supplies on you at all times, too," Smith countered.

"And just what  _have_  you been through, Smith?" West inquired.

"It was a rather exhausting and dreary ordeal that I don't wish to relive at the moment. Suffice it to say, I learned very quickly to be prepared for anything." He turned back to look at his patient. "And fortunately, Will is able to benefit from those lessons learned." The look he gave West said, in no uncertain terms, that the Major would not be able to extract the truth about his capture, no matter how hard he tried. West knew that look well and frowned slightly in response.

West acquiesced and simply replied, "Yes, it's certainly fortunate, for Will's sake."

Smith mentally chalked up another point in his column and tried not to break his game face.

With the duo's brief joust over, the rest of the family welcomed Doctor Smith and predictably asked about what happened when he awoke and discovered they were all gone. He filled them in, only on the details he wished them to know, leaving out his harrowing adventures on the mountain, but reassuring them the Robot had been repaired and was in good working order. In turn, Major West and the Professor filled Doctor Smith in on their adventures, what they'd learned about the complex they were incarcerated in and the aliens who had captured them.

Once the conversation died down, Smith went back to sit at Will's bedside. He massaged his wrists where the manacles had started to rub the skin raw. "Blast these monstrous things!"

"They won't remove them for anything," the Major interjected. "Overly cautious."

"To the point of paranoia, apparently." Smith glanced at West's wrists. He reached out to inspect one of them closer, but West pulled back. The doctor looked at the Major, his hand still held out, silently commanding him to cooperate. West complied, begrudgingly, and held out his wrists for review. Smith assessed the festering wounds and shook his head. He removed one of the small packets of antibiotic ointment from his sleeve, where he'd concealed them again after their first use.

West pulled his hands back again and refused the treatment. "No, save it for Will. He needs it more."

"A very admirable gesture, Major, but I'm the doctor here. Leave the medical decisions to me," Smith asserted. "Your wrists."

West still refused to comply. "Save it, Smith. For Will."

Smith let out an exasperated sigh. He held up the small packet. "Major, what makes you think this is all I have?"

That made the Major think for a moment. He hadn't even expected Smith to be able to smuggle that much in. There was no reason to think he couldn't have brought more. He relented and held his wrists out for treatment. "Ok, you win, but use it sparingly."

The doctor nodded in agreement and set to work spreading the ointment on the raw and bleeding sores of the Major's wrists, while the Major grit his teeth.

Smith looked up from his work to glance at the Major. With a straight face, he boasted "You know, I could've smuggled a small pachyderm into this place if I'd wanted to."

Caught off guard by the doctor's boast, West laughed loudly. "You know, I'm beginning to think you could. A dozen laser rifles would have been better though. What would we do with a pachyderm?"

"Major, you've always been the resourceful sort. You'd think of something."

The statement solicited more chuckles from West. What the Major didn't know was that Doctor Smith was bluffing about the ointment. He didn't have more than what he concealed in his sleeves and it was by luck alone that he hadn't been caught with it. The oral antibiotic was what was most important for Will. The rest he could share with the others without endangering Will's recovery. Knowing the Major's value as protection and defense of their party, it was imperative he be in the best condition that could be managed in such a place as this. After he was done with the Major, he inspected and treated the Robinsons. Will, fortunately, had been spared being shackled, given his condition and age.

The next task Smith gave himself, so as to prevent the ruin of the medical care he'd just performed, was to figure out how to remove the manacles, at least while the guards weren't around. He sat at Will's bedside studying the devices carefully. A tap on his shoulder startled him. He turned, expecting to see Will awake, but jumped to his feet when he found a large and rather intimidating looking alien standing on the other side of Will's bed. He stifled a shriek and shrank back, the sight of the strange, frilled reptilian a bit too much for his overtaxed nerves.

"Hello," it greeted him with the help of one of the few portable working translators in the stockade.

"Hello," Smith stammered in response. After an awkward moment of silence, he asked timidly, "May I help you?"

"You are a doctor?" the alien inquired.

Smith looked over his shoulder at his companions. They were watching the exchange with interest. John Robinson nodded at the doctor, as if to reassure him they'd protect him if the situation turned ugly.

The Professor's gesture was only a slight consolation to Smith, but he turned back to the alien and answered, "Yes. I'm a doctor... of  _human_  medicine."

"Please. Come. Help," the alien beseeched.

"Help? With what?" Smith inquired.

The only response the alien gave was to motion in the direction he wished the doctor to follow.

He looked toward Will, hesitant to leave his patient behind. Mrs. Robinson assured him she'd look after him while he was gone. Not wanting to risk the ire of such an imposing alien and calculating that helping it may gain him a future ally, Smith reluctantly followed it after instructing Mrs. Robinson to come get him should Will's condition change.

The alien brought the doctor through a congregation of its species, whom he learned were called the Kir Gal, to a bed that held a very small individual. Its appearance was reptilian in nature, like its parents, but lacked many of the frills and bony structures that adorned the heads and necks of the adults. Smith kneeled hesitantly next to the bed and looked up to the alien who had brought him there. "Your child?" he inquired.

"Yes," came the response.

The doctor looked over the child, uncertain of where to start. "I know nothing of your species' physiology," he confessed. "I'm not sure what help I can be."

"Please, try. You must try," the alien implored.

Something in the appeal touched the doctor, despite his aversion to the alien's appearance. Smith requested information from the alien in an attempt to equate human organs and their functions with the equivalent for the alien's species, if they even existed. Though their medical knowledge was primitive, several of the reptilians provided the requested information, chiming in with normal respiratory rates, temperatures, and the like. With a crash course in Kir Gal physiology, Smith checked the child over as best he could. He suspected the child was suffering from malnutrition and in his weakened state, may have picked up one of the common alien diseases running rampant through the stockade.

The reptilians nodded and whispered amongst themselves as Doctor Smith relayed his suspicions. The only treatment available was plenty of rest, hydration, and extra food rations and each of the Kir Gal offered to sacrifice some of their rations for the child. As a medical professional, the situation irritated Smith, as he could tell their captors had the means and technology to take better care of their prisoners. He assumed they simply chose not to and he was right. Unfortunately, the children, like Will and this small alien before him, were the most vulnerable and likely to suffer from this neglect.

The aliens offered their thanks and Smith accepted it graciously. Before he left, he asked if the Asmani had medical practitioners on the premises. He was given the name of the chief doctor and directions to ask the guards for a meeting. The Kir Gal assured Smith that the doctor was very unlike the Asmani leadership and was as sympathetic an ear he'd find in the Asmani society. However, Mal J'hat had strict orders denying medical care to prisoners, so any meeting may prove futile. A sympathetic ear was exactly what Smith needed. He had only planned to request medical aid, which now seemed very unlikely to be fulfilled, but perhaps this alien doctor could provide something else. Smith vowed to meet the man to find out.

\---------------------------

**The Doctor's Comments:**   _Yes, we have been reunited, though if I had my druthers, it would be in the safety and security of the Jupiter 2. Alas, that is not the case, but I must work with what I'm given. I must improvise, as it were. As always, a kind word is appreciated about my adventures._


	5. A Mutually Beneficial Proposition

The doctor returned to his own "family" and was relieved to be among his own kind once more. Mrs. Robinson hadn't left Will's side while he was gone and Smith was more than happy to relieve her of tending his patient. As he sat down at the bedside, Will opened his eyes. "Doctor Smith?"

The doctor smiled. "Feeling better?"

Will smiled weakly, "A little. How did you get here?"

"Same way you did, my lad. Unwillingly," Smith replied. He anticipated his young friend's next question. "In case you were wondering, the Robot is fine. I replaced a few scorched parts and wiring. He's good as new." Smith lowered his voice to a whisper, "And he's eagerly awaiting our return."

Will's face beamed at the news. The others had heard the two conversing and had surrounded them. The sight of Will conscious and smiling lifted their spirits.

"You must be hungry," Mrs. Robinson stated. She offered him a small amount of food from their rations and some water to wash it down.

Smith offered his own culinary critique, "The food is deplorable, William, but filling." He turned to Mrs. Robinson. "I long to sample your delectable cuisine again, my dear lady. The sooner, the better."

"For once, I agree with Smith," West chimed in.

The family all sat down to eat their meal rations with Will and filled him in on everything he'd missed. He was fascinated by the large variety of aliens there with them. He decided that when he was able to get up and about, he'd make a project of learning as much as he could of each species. Penny volunteered to help him in the endeavor. Smith got Will's project rolling by pointing out the Kir Gal and supplying some interesting facts about their physiology.

When the meal was finished, Smith excused himself, but not before ordering Will to get more rest. He headed toward the entrance to the stockade to converse with the guards. Curious as to what Smith was up to, West followed him at a distance far enough not to be detected, but close enough to see and hear what was going on.

As Smith approached the guards, he hesitated a moment, nervously wringing his hands. He stepped toward one of the guards, "Excuse me?"

When the guard didn't respond, he spoke again, "Excuse me?"

The guard turned and looked at Smith, obviously annoyed at his presence. "What do you want?"

"Hello," Smith forced a smile. "My name is Doctor Zachary Smith and I would like to request a meeting with M'jek. I have a proposition for him. I believe it will be mutually beneficial."

"Hold on," the guard replied. He touched a series of buttons on his gauntlet and spoke a few sentences in his native tongue. Smith couldn't understand, but assumed he was making the request. A few seconds later, the guard nodded to himself, punched a few more buttons, then turned to Smith. "M'jek will arrive shortly to take you to his quarters."

Smith thanked the guard and waited patiently for the chief medical officer to arrive. West, however, turned and walked away in disgust. He was fuming by the time he got back to the Robinsons. The Professor could tell something was bothering him.

"Don, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Same old Smith," West growled.

Robinson had a sinking feeling and really didn't want to ask, but did so anyway. "What is it this time?"

"Well, I followed him when he left. He went straight to the guard, requested a meeting with someone named M'jek. Said he had a 'mutually beneficial proposition'. John, he's at it again. He's gonna sell us up the river for his own freedom," West explained.

The Professor shook his head. "I don't know, Don. We shouldn't go jumping to conclusions. Look how concerned he's been about Will. I know he's pulled some fast ones in the past, but things seem different this time. I think we should give him the benefit of the doubt."

West considered his friend's words. Based on years of experience with the duplicitous doctor, his mind was already made up, but he respected the Professor enough to simmer down and wait for Smith's return.

Meanwhile, after a short introduction at the entrance to the stockade, M'jek took Smith to his quarters. While Smith had been in space for some time and had met many different aliens, he'd had very little opportunity to discuss medicine, let alone with a doctor from an alien culture. A small part of him had looked forward to this moment since he'd talked to the Kir Gal. His gaze wandered around M'jek's office with ample curiosity. He casually picked up a few instruments and studied them, attempting to guess their purpose.

M'jek smiled, not only at the human's curiosity, but his apparent boldness. He sat behind his desk and motioned for Smith to sit in the chair on the other side.

"I'm told you wished to speak to me. The guard said you had a mutually beneficial proposition to make," M'jek stated.

"Yes," Smith replied. "I am told by the Kir Gal that you are quite sympathetic to the plight of the prisoners." He paused, hoping the alien doctor would verify his statement.

"Yes, I am," M'jek confirmed. "There are quite a number of Asmani who do not agree with our leadership's enslavement and treatment of these people. Our chief, Mal J'hat,  _enjoys_  the misery of others and he doesn't like to 'waste' medical treatment on prisoners," he said with a measure of disgust. "I'm sure the Kir Gal told you, I have been forbidden to provide proper medical care for them. Which leads me to wonder why you are here."

"I was curious," Smith began, leaning forward in his chair. "I assume that you would like for the prisoners to receive medical care, but you only refrain due to the orders of your leaders, correct?"

M'jek nodded in affirmation. "That is correct. If I violate one word of the directive, there would be dire consequences."

"Directive? What specifically does this directive say, word for word?" Smith inquired.

M'jek cocked his head slightly, his curiosity growing. He punched a few buttons on a console on his desk. "Here is the directive. It's short, but clear-cut. 'By order of Mal J'hat, no Asmani medical personnel may provide medical services to any prisoner.' It seems quite clear that my hands are tied."

Smith smiled. "You are not to provide  _services_? It says nothing about supplies?"

M'jek's eyes lit up in comprehension. He quickly read his console again. He couldn't believe he had missed it. "It says I am forbidden to provide services. You are correct. It says nothing about supplies. You are a doctor, are you not?"

Smith nodded and settled back in the chair. "Of human medicine, but I'm a quick study."

M'jek laughed. "Am I to assume you wish me to provide medical supplies to you and you will, in turn, provide medical services to the prisoners?"

"That depends," Smith replied, intending to probe further to assess the risk.

The alien doctor frowned. "Don't trifle with me, doctor. If you wish to do this, there will be no conditions. I had assumed you came here with altruistic intentions. Perhaps I was wrong."

Smith quickly moved to reassure M'jek. "Forgive me, I meant no offense. My willingness to commit to this plan is predicated on the assurance that you will suffer no consequences if it is somehow discovered. Are directives considered law and are Asmani leaders bound by the letter of their directives?"

M'jek quickly relaxed, realizing the misunderstanding. "Yes, directives are considered a form of law and Asmani leaders are bound by the exact words of their directives. The high council sees to it. In order to punish me, he would have to amend his directive and catch me in the act again."

"I see," Smith steepled his hands in front of him. "And would there be..."

"Any consequences for you?" M'jek interrupted, following Smith's train of thought. "No. If any Asmani are involved in an action that is perceived to break a directive, all who participate are under the authority of the high council. Since they could not punish Asmani in this instance, they would be unwilling to punish non-Asmani. Besides, the high council has no love for Mal J'hat and would most likely rule in whatever fashion would irritate him most if they could get away with it." M'jek laughed.

Smith smiled. He was beginning to like this individual. "In that case, I would be more than willing to offer my medical services in exchange for supplies."

The alien doctor punched a few buttons on the console and requested a guard.

Smith tensed, wondering if he had miscalculated.

"I have requested the presence of T'pat. He will be your contact to request supplies," M'jek explained.

Smith relaxed and slowly exhaled. "He is trustworthy?"

"Incredibly loyal," M'jek confirmed. "I saved his life years ago. He was grievously injured by Mal J'hat during one of his tirades."

"Dare I ask why?" Smith inquired.

"No reason," M'jek answered. "He just happened to be in Mal J'hat's quarters at the time."

_Lovely_ , Smith thought.  _Can't wait to meet this cheerful fellow._

M'jek read the expression of dread dawning on Smith's face. "Just steer clear of Mal J'hat and you'll be fine. T'pat will keep an eye out for you."

A chime sounded and M'jek instructed the visitor to enter.

T'Pat entered and raised the visor on his helmet, as was the custom when addressing Asmani officers. "You wanted to see me?" he asked in the Asmani tongue.

"Don't be rude, T'pat," M'jek admonished. "We have a guest. Use your translator."

"Forgive me," he apologized. He tapped a button on his gauntlet. "Who is your guest? I have seen him with some of the prisoners."

"He  _is_  a prisoner. And a doctor," M'jek explained. "He also found a way around Mal J'hat's directive against medical aid to the prisoners."

T'pat smiled and looked at Smith. "He did?"

M'jek explained the loophole discovered by Smith and the details of their plan. T'pat was more than willing to participate. They spent the next few hours going over logistics and listing the supplies known to be currently needed. T'pat provided the guard schedules so Smith would know when to expect contact. They also developed, at Smith's insistence, a series of signals to communicate covertly.

Smith left the alien doctor's quarters under escort of T'pat. With the proper medical supplies ensured for Will, he had an extra bounce to his step as they walked back to the stockade.

The doctor arrived back to their little slice of prison smiling. He was greeted with frowns. His first thought was for Will, but he could see the boy was sitting up and did not appear to be distressed in any way.

"Have a good meeting with M'jek, Smith?" West asked.

A look of surprise flitted briefly across Smith's face, but after considering the source of the question, he realized he'd been tailed earlier. "Why, yes. I did."

"Did he accept your proposition?" West continued.

Smith's eyes narrowed. "Yes, he did. I don't see how it is any concern of yours, however."

"I knew it!" West exclaimed. He pointed at the doctor. "John, didn't I tell you he'd do it to us again? Smith, I can't believe you."

"Now, just you wait, Major! What are you insinuating here?" Smith's ire was quickly rising. For once he was thinking of something other than himself and here he was catching hell from West once again.

"Don't deny it, Smith. Tell them. Tell them about this little proposition of yours," West demanded.

"Don," the Professor's tone held a warning for his colleague to calm down.

Smith laughed. "Major, I know you can't help but make a jackass of yourself, but given our current circumstances, I wish you'd at least make an effort not to."

West took a step toward the doctor, but the Professor held him back. The Robinson patriarch shot a warning glance at the doctor, but commanded, "Give him a chance to explain, Don."

"Yes, Don. Give me a chance to explain," Smith requested, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Smith," the Professor's voice held an equivalent warning for the doctor.

"You wish to know the details of the deal I struck with M'jek?" Smith asked.

"Yes," West and Robinson answered in unison.

"Do you even know who M'jek is?" Smith inquired, intending to torture the Major with evasion as long as he could get away with it.

"No, I don't. Just get to it, will you?" West replied.

"He's the chief medical officer of the Asmani." Smith crossed his arms, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "If it had occurred to me to ask him to release me and point me toward Earth, Major, I would have. Unfortunately, I had more immediate concerns, that being Will and the young Kir Gal I saw earlier. So, as you might imagine, it completely slipped my mind."

Despite the doctor's sarcastic tone, Maureen, Penny, Judy, and especially Will couldn't help but smile at Smith's performance.

"Instead," Smith continued, his tone becoming more serious. "I asked him about the lack of medical aid for the prisoners. He told me he was sympathetic and wished to help, but was bound by a directive that prohibited him from providing medical services to them. Fortunately, I was able to discover a loophole in that directive." Smith smiled smugly. "It's true, he cannot provide services. However, it said nothing about prohibiting supplies. My proposition, Major," Smith cast a dirty glance at the pilot, "was that I would provide medical service if M'jek would provide supplies. He eagerly agreed. So, tomorrow when I sneak off around 0200 hours, rest assured I won't be boarding a shuttle for Earth without you all. I'll be picking up the first shipment of supplies. You, of course, are welcome to help me carry them."

West hung his head, a small embarrassed smile barely visible. He shook his head and looked up at the doctor. "I guess I owe you an apology, Smith," he offered.

"I'm waiting," Smith replied expectantly.

"I'm sorry. I misjudged you and I jumped to conclusions." West turned to look at the Professor who gave him a look that said "I told you so."

"And?" Smith prodded.

"And what?" West asked.

"And since jackasses make such great pack animals, Major, you'll be willing to help me carry supplies tomorrow," Smith finished.

West's expression soured at the insult, but when everybody else started laughing, it lightened. "Alright, Smith. I'll help you carry supplies tomorrow."

"Apology accepted," Smith replied.

\--------------------------------

**The Doctor's Notes:**   _Despite the fact I'm stuck in this horrid alien prison_ for _the time being, things are going rather favorably so far, if I do say so myself. As you can see, I'm quite preoccupied with winning friends and influencing aliens at the moment. It's all for the sake of William and the Robinsons, I assure you. Now, if you'd be so kind as to leave a review, it would be greatly appreciated._


	6. Dreams & Nightmares

The following evening, Smith and West quietly made their way through the maze of beds full of sleeping prisoners and met T'pat at the entrance to the stockade at the appointed time. T'pat was the only guard on duty, as was customary during the later hours. He handed both Smith and West what would appear to be ordinary packages of food rations. T'pat instructed them to take them and mingle them with their normal food rations. He would have more for them by the time they returned. Smith and the West did as instructed and when all supplies had been received, thanked T'pat for his assistance.

Before they left, T'pat grabbed Smith's arm with one hand and shook his hand with the other. "Handshaking," he said. "It is an Earth custom to express gratitude or camaraderie, is it not?" Smith felt T'pat press a small, metal object into his hand. "Yes, it is," Smith nodded with a smile. With sleight of hand that would impress a pickpocket or magician, the doctor concealed the item in his sleeve, the Major oblivious to the transfer that had just occurred. T'pat shook West's hand quickly and bid them goodbye.

The next morning, Smith was up early, opening packages and mentally cataloging the contents. He set specific items aside for Will and the young Kir Gal, then began re-organizing everything neatly back into the packages in some sort of system he had devised.

Major West came by after he'd had his morning rations. "Everything all there?" he inquired.

"Yes, and a few little extras," Smith replied. He tossed West a tube of antibiotic ointment. It wasn't exactly what they had in stock on the Jupiter 2, but it was similar enough that it should be somewhat effective.

As West caught the tube, he noticed something peculiar. "What happened to your manacles?"

"I tired of them, so I removed them," Smith stated simply.

The Major scowled. "How?"

"Major, the solution is so incredibly obvious that even a simpleton like  _you_  can figure it out," Smith smirked. "I wouldn't want to deprive you of the satisfaction of solving the mystery yourself."

"Smith," West began, his annoyance at the doctor evident in his voice. "If you've figured out a way for us to remove these manacles, I suggest you share it with the rest of us... IF you want to stay in one piece."

At that moment, Judy strolled over. "Sleep well, Don?" she asked.

The Major's attitude softened as he turned to address Judy. Before he could speak, he noticed she too was unshackled. "What happened to your manacles?"

"Oh, Doctor Smith took them off for me. He got a key from the guard last night," she explained. "He took everybody's manacles off since the guards aren't around."

West held his hands in front of Judy, "Almost everybody's." He shot a dirty look at the doctor.

"Now, now, Major. I was going to remove them earlier, but you were still sleeping. Considering our late night, I thought it best to let you get your rest." Smith motioned West over and unlocked each of the cuffs. "My 'supply' request was very thorough, don't you think?"

West rubbed his wrists and sighed in relief at the small measure of freedom. "Yes. Yes, it was. Thanks."

Smith nodded almost imperceptibly and went back to organizing the medical supplies.

It didn't take long for many of the prisoners to notice the ample supply of what appeared to be food rations in the Robinsons' area. It took even less time for word to get around that those food rations weren't what they appeared to be. By the end of the day, Smith was overwhelmed with requests for supplies and medical services. Despite his efforts at organization, it was clear he needed help. He enlisted the aid of Judy and Mrs. Robinson to make appointments, handle supply requests, and provide basic nursing and first aid care. Penny, and later Will when he had recovered enough, came along with the doctor on "house calls" to take notes on alien physiology and anatomy for later reference. Smith set up a small triage area to prioritize and attend to the emergency cases, which Mrs. Robinson operated when the doctor was not available.

In short order, Doctor Smith found himself with very little free time. If he wasn't busy tending to wounds and infections, he was trying to stem the outbreak of various alien viruses and performing the occasional emergency surgery. He put in long hours to ensure as many patients were treated as possible. It reminded him of his days of residency and some of the reasons he went into medicine in the first place. Smith had never been accused of being a selfless man, he was often quite the opposite, but he abhorred violence and he abhorred suffering. By virtue of the deal he had brokered with M'jek, which was first and foremost for Will's benefit, he found himself in a position to relieve some of that suffering.

It was clear, however, whatever the doctor's current motivations, his services were fostering good will among the prison population and he and the Robinsons were treated well as a result. Many of the aliens chose to show their gratitude in whatever manner was customary for their species.

As Doctor Smith sat on a bed unpacking the latest shipment of medical supplies, he felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned and looked up at a familiar face, an Utak female he knew as Kress. The Utak species was very human looking, with a few minor differences in appearance, most noticeably additional mammaries in the females, which Doctor Smith and his male human companions never failed to notice.

"Kress? Is something wrong?" he asked, concerned about her brother, a former patient.

"No, quite the contrary," she smiled. "My brother is making a wonderful recovery because of you."

"Then is there something else I may help you with?" the doctor inquired.

"I'm just here to thank you," she purred, as she brought two soft, slender hands to his face. "For saving my brother's life." She slowly ran a hand behind the back of his head and pulled him towards her.

Smith stiffened at her advances. He gently took both of her hands and slowly removed them from his face. "Madame, that is hardly an appropriate expression of gratitude for saving your brother's life. A simple 'thank you' will suffice."

"On the contrary, it is customary for my people," she explained as her hands sought his face once more.

The Robinson family and Major West were watching the display with interest and attempted to suppress their chuckles, obviously enjoying Smith's predicament.

Smith started to protest again when Kress' mouth connected with his. Her slim, silky tongue darted between his lips. He struggled for a moment, but all protests stopped when he felt a slight pin prick at the roof of his mouth. A warm, tingling sensation rushed over him. His eyes would have widened in surprise, if he wasn't having such a hard time keeping them open. She broke off the kiss and a lazy smile washed over the doctor's face. His drooping eyelids finally closed for good and a low, contented moan escaped his lips as his body went limp. Kress gently laid the doctor down on the bed and brushed a loose lock of hair from his forehead.

"What did you do to him?" West demanded.

"I thanked him," Kress replied. "Don't worry, he'll awaken in a few hours. And he'll be in a  _very_  good mood." She smiled and bid the doctor's companions goodbye.

The Professor and Major West went to the bedside and examined the doctor.

"He's been drugged somehow," West stated the obvious.

The Professor took Smith's pulse at one of his wrists and noticed the doctor's eyes darting rapidly beneath his eyelids. "He's in REM sleep."

"Looks like he's having a good time in there," West observed. "He's still smiling."

The Professor chuckled. "Well, we'll have to ask him all about it when he comes around."

Several hours later, the doctor started to stir. Major West was the first at his bedside, curiosity nearly eating him alive. "Smith?"

"Hmmmm?" Smith replied, eyes still closed.

"Smith, you in there?" West prodded.

"Can I keep her, ma?" Smith slurred.

"Smith?" West shook him.

"Hmmmm? What?" Smith opened his eyes and looked around, a bit confused at first. Then the same lazy, contented smile he'd worn for the past several hours washed over his face again.

"Where ya been? What happened?" West asked, barely containing himself. The Professor stood behind him, wondering the same thing. The rest of the family quickly gathered around.

"I'm not completely sure," Smith confessed as he propped himself up on his elbows. "There are no words to describe it, Major. A dream, a completely inexplicable, glorious dream. I've never experienced anything quite like it before." He swung his legs over the side of the bed and yawned mightily, the drug not completely purged from his system. "But I do know I'm going to have to do a little more... 'research'... on Utak physiology."

"Do you need a research assistant?" West asked eagerly.

"I'd like to sign up for that," the Professor chimed in.

From somewhere behind them, they heard the distinct sound of throats clearing. They turned to see Judy and Maureen, arms crossed and stern looks plastered to their faces.

"Perhaps not," the Professor chuckled.

"No, I guess not," the Major agreed.

"I can appreciate your scientific curiosity, gentlemen, but I work alone," Smith declared. He inhaled deeply and exhaled in a long, contented sigh.

...

Smith became so engrossed in providing medical services to the inmates that he completely forgot about the reason he was there in the first place. With the kind of "thanks" he was getting, he certainly had the motivation to immerse himself in his work. After his second 30 hour shift of the week, the doctor stumbled back to the Robinsons' camp and fell face first into his bed, his pillow muffling a low, tired groan. The thought that he was getting too old for this briefly flitted through his brain before he lost consciousness. It wouldn't be long before he'd be rudely reminded of his original purpose.

"Doctor Smith?" Maureen Robinson tried to rouse him from the instant slumber he'd drifted into. When he didn't stir, she shook him gently. "Doctor Smith?"

"Hmm?" he replied, semi-conscious.

"Doctor Smith, they took John and Don," she stated, the anxiety in her voice evident.

It took a second for the impact of her statement to register, but when it did, Smith bolted upright. "When? Where?"

"A few hours ago, we don't know where," she supplied.

"Wait here," Smith commanded before he dashed toward the guards at the stockade entrance, stumbling and righting himself several times as adrenaline fought with his exhaustion.

He was fortunate to find T'pat on duty. He explained what Mrs. Robinson had told him. T'pat made a few calls through his communicator and quickly ascertained the location of the Professor and the Major. They were in another holding cell with several other prisoners who were scheduled to be moved northward in the morning to help on construction of the palace.

Smith's mind raced. He rattled off a series of questions to T'pat, not bothering to allow the guard time to answer. "What time are they being moved? Can you or M'jek intercede? May I see them?"

Desperation was evident in the doctor's voice and on his face. T'pat tried to calm him and answered his questions in turn. "They're being moved at 0800. I don't have the authority to intercede and while M'jek does, he has unfortunately been called away on an emergency. I may be able to get you in to see them for a short time. No more than 5 minutes."

Smith nodded and requested T'pat make the arrangements. After a few more calls on his communicator, another guard came to relieve him and T'pat escorted Smith to the cell where the Professor and the Major were being held.

"Doctor Smith," the Professor announced as he saw the physician escorted towards them. Both he and the Major moved toward the bars to converse with him.

Smith instinctively grinned at the sight of Major West behind bars.

The Major caught the look and reacted. "Smith, wipe that smirk off your face."

Smith suppressed the grin and briefly entertained a comment about the Major looking right at home, but thought better of it. He only had five minutes, so he had to talk quickly. "They're taking you north, in the morning, to work on the palace." He lowered his voice to a whisper and continued, "M'jek is currently away or I'd request his assistance in securing your transfer back to the stockade. Rest assured, when he returns, I'll see what can be done about bringing you back here. In the meantime, don't do anything foolish." The Major knew the last comment was mainly directed at him.

Both the Professor and Major nodded. Smith uncharacteristically held his hand out to shake the Major's hand. West hesitantly shook it and immediately felt the small, metal object pressed into his hand.

Smith grasped the bars of the cell and leaned in to speak. "In case things should get... dicey," he whispered. "Use it only if absolutely necessary."

West only nodded and tucked the key safely away.

T'pat stepped forward and announced, "We must go now."

Smith looked back at the guard and then back to his friends. He released his grasp on the bars and looked as if he wanted to say something more, but stayed silent. The look on his face conveyed his concern more than words could. He turned to leave, but turned back and held his hand up in a hesitant farewell. The Professor and Major returned the gesture and the doctor quickly left.

Mrs. Robinson was on her feet the moment she saw the doctor returning and moved to meet him. She grasped his arms. "Are they ok?" she asked, her voice heavy with concern.

"They're fine," Smith assured her. "Unfortunately, there's little that can be done, at the moment, to get them back."

As what little signs of hope on Mrs. Robinson's face vanished, Smith gently squeezed her arm and reassured her. "We  _will_  get them back, my dear lady."

\----------------------

**The Doctor's Comments:** _I'm sure, dear reader, that you hope, as I do, that the Professor and the Major are returned quickly. I have no desire to try to fill their shoes. I do, however, desire some kind feedback, if you please._


	7. A Call To Action

Nobody slept that night, with the exception of Doctor Smith who, despite his worry, was too physically exhausted to remain awake. Rather than wake the man, Mrs. Robinson and Judy handled retrieving the supplies from T'pat at the appointed time. They took the opportunity to ask about John and Don, but the guard had no further information.

While the doctor slept, M'jek was preparing to return from the palace where he had been busy patching up an Asmani foreman who had been seriously injured in a construction accident. As the doctor was walking to the vehicle that would transport him south, he saw a prison transport arrive. He watched the prisoners disembark and was somewhat dismayed to see two humans in the group. He ordered the driver to wait for him as he went over to the prison transport.

The doctor pulled the two humans aside. "Wait here," he instructed. He went to the ranking guard and spoke to him in the Asmani language. Neither the Professor nor Major West understood what was being said, but the discussion got a little heated. It was obvious the guard was upset, but he seemed to ultimately defer to whatever authority M'jek must have possessed.

While waiting for M'jek to return, the two men watched the prisoners working on the palace. The labor was backbreaking and many of the workers faltered under the heavy loads they were forced to carry and lift. Their Asmani handlers didn't hesitate to apply whips and prods as motivation.

"We wouldn't last a day here," West whispered to the Professor. The Professor nodded.

As M'jek turned and walked past the two men, he motioned for them to follow, which they did eagerly. The doctor didn't say a word til they reached the interior of his transport.

"I don't know the circumstances of your arrival here, but as a favor to Doctor Smith, I am taking you back to the stockade, as I'm sure that's what he'd want. The conditions may leave a little something to be desired there, but they're better than those at the palace for the moment. The life expectancy of prisoners working on the palace is... very short. If I thought I could get away with it, I'd release the two of you. I'd release all of you," he amended. "But as it is, I'm taking a bit of a chance transferring you back to the prison," M'jek explained. "If anyone asks, you were deemed medically unfit for the job. I will recommend all humans be given domestic tasks only."

From inside the transport, the trio could hear muffled shouts, then an incredible crash followed by screams of pain. M'jek opened the door and looked outside. He saw that a large section of scaffolding and the wall behind it had collapsed. One of the handlers ran towards the doctor. He informed him that there were several dead prisoners and implored him to provide medical help to the injured Asmani. M'jek stuck his head back into the car and directed the humans to stay quiet while the transport took them back to the stockade. He would have to stay behind to provide medical care.

Both men nodded in understanding and thanked the doctor. They sat quietly for the duration of the multi-hour trip, their thoughts solely on the rest of the family and how they could possibly effect an escape for all of them. It was a tricky proposition, as Mal J'hat seemed the type to use violence to keep prisoners in line and should any of them be successful in escaping, they had no doubt any of their party that was left behind would suffer.

...

Smith woke slowly, sleep still heavy in his eyes. He swung his legs to the floor, yawned mightily, and ran a weary hand over his face. "What time is it?" he asked to no one in particular.

"About three in the afternoon," Judy answered.

"Three? You let me sleep..." the doctor did some quick math in his head, "SIXTEEN hours?"

"Sorry, Doctor Smith, but you needed it," Judy insisted.

"I suppose you're right," Smith agreed, but he had hoped he'd be up before 0800 to see if there were any last ditch options before the prison transport left. He searched the area quickly to locate the rest of the Robinsons, just to put his mind at ease that nothing else dire had happened while he was asleep. "Judy, be a dear and tell your mother I'm going to inquire about your father and the Major. I shall return shortly."

Smith doubted T'pat would be on duty, but he had to do what he could to find out the fate of his companions. The guard he saw at the stockade entrance was unfamiliar, but he approached him anyway and asked for him to send for T'pat. The guard was reluctant, but at Smith's insistence, he did so.

T'pat was fairly sure what Smith wanted and as he walked to the stockade, inquired on his communicator about the status of the Professor and the Major. As he approached, Smith began to ask, but T'pat raised a hand to quiet him.

"I just asked about their whereabouts. They apparently never arrived at the palace," T'pat revealed.

Smith's heart sank at the news. "What could have happened to them?" he asked, immediately dreading the possible answers.

"I really don't want to speculate," T'pat replied. "but perhaps it's just a bureaucratic glitch. I'm sure they're fine."

The answer didn't satisfy Smith and the tone of the guard's voice did little to inspire confidence. As usual, he feared the worst. He mentally flogged himself for forgetting his real purpose for being there and vowed to renew himself to the effort, though it pained him to think he'd have to reduce his medical efforts to do so.

For a brief moment, it occurred to him that if the Professor and Major were lost to them, there may be no point in escape.  _Who would lead? Who would pilot the Jupiter 2?_  It would seemingly all fall on his shoulders and he wasn't sure he was up to the task. He certainly didn't want the responsibility and all the work that went with it. And he certainly didn't want to be the one to have to break the news to the rest of the Robinsons.

A hand on his shoulder broke him from his thoughts and startled him. "I'm sure they're fine," T'pat repeated.

Smith nodded and thanked the guard. As he turned to leave, T'pat called out, "I'll keep checking and if I hear anything, I'll let you know."

The doctor barely acknowledged the offer with a wave as he trudged back to the Robinson camp. He found the family gathered together, awaiting news. He, unfortunately, was the messenger. For a brief moment, he considered lying. Under normal circumstances and even pressure situations, he was an accomplished liar, but this was different. Smith licked his lips nervously as he approached the group.

"Did you find out anything?" Mrs. Robinson asked eagerly.

"Yes," Smith affirmed while fidgeting with his fingers, one of his nervous habits. He dreaded saying the next words. "They never arrived at the work site."

"What does that mean?" Judy asked, a touch of fear creeping into her voice.

"I don't know," Smith shook his head. "T'pat suggested perhaps it was a bureaucratic glitch." The doctor hesitated, but then continued. "I'm sure they're perfectly fine," but his voice held no conviction.

The news seemingly sucked all air out of the immediate area and hopes deflated. The children gathered around their mother and clung to her and she to them. All Smith could do was watch helplessly. He hesitantly walked up behind Mrs. Robinson and lay what he hoped would be a comforting hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to look at him, forced a small smile, and grasped his hand appreciatively. Though he didn't voice it, she could tell he was as concerned as the rest of them. After a few moments, he turned and left.

Once again, Smith made the trek to the entrance of the stockade. The guards saw him approach and were prepared to send for T'pat when he arrived.

"You wish to talk to T'pat again?" one of the guards asked.

"Yes, if you please," Smith replied.

As soon as T'pat arrived, Smith made his request. "I wish to speak to Mal J'hat."

T'pat looked at Smith as if he were insane. "You want to talk to... Mal J'hat? I thought we had agreed to keep you as far from him as possible. Why do you wish to speak to him?"

"It's personal, but important," Smith replied, leaving the details vague on purpose.

"You're serious?" T'pat inquired.

"Yes, I'm serious," Smith confirmed.

"Alright," T'pat agreed, "I'll take you to him. I just hope I can return you in one piece."

Smith blanched at the visual, but insisted on the meeting.

As they wandered through the halls to Mal J'hat's quarters, the doctor engaged T'pat in chit chat, which the guard readily replied to. In fact, the guard became so comfortable with his prisoner that he let his guard down for a moment.

"...and M'jek should be returning later tonight," he continued. "I will set up a meeting for you after he returns." When the doctor didn't respond, he looked beside him, then behind him. He looked down the hall, up the hall, and everywhere in sight. There was no doctor to be found. Both a sense of panic and anger rose up in him. He wanted to call out for Smith, but knew that being found looking for an escaped prisoner would not reflect well on him.

When T'pat had gotten so comfortable with the conversation that he neglected to even look at Smith, the doctor timed his departure perfectly, slipping down a side corridor and making his way to M'jek's quarters. Having watched the guards on the few trips he'd made there, he easily gained access.

Smith quickly found what he was looking for, layouts of the complex. He memorized the location of the communications center, the armory, the power station, and the chief engineer's quarters. He attempted to use the computer, but since he couldn't even decipher the Asmani language, he doubted he'd be able to hack in, even with his formidable programming skills. He opened the door to move on to the engineer's quarters and peeked his head out to make sure the coast was clear.

The doctor moved stealthily, deftly avoiding guard after guard wandering the halls, until he arrived at the engineer's quarters. He picked a spot down a side corridor where he could keep an eye on the door and crouched down. He waited several minutes to determine whether or not the quarters were empty.

"He's not in there," came a voice from behind him. Smith let out a small shriek and was rewarded by a large hand over his mouth.

"It's just me... T'pat. Though it just as easily could have been someone else," the guard warned as he released the doctor.

"You nearly scared me to death," Smith growled.

"You're not the one who lost a prisoner and has a madman for a boss," T'pat whispered. "Just who should be scared to death?"

"You have a point," Smith agreed.

"What are you doing here?" T'pat inquired.

"Can you keep a secret?" Smith asked.

"Of course," T'pat answered.

"So can I," Smith smirked. "Come on." He waved T'pat to follow him to the engineer's quarters and started to stand.

"Hold on," T'pat grabbed a handful of Smith's shirt. The doctor complied because any further movement on his part would probably involve asphyxiation. "Why do you want me along?"

Smith motioned for T'pat to release him and the guard complied. The doctor straightened his tunic and rubbed his neck where it had tightened uncomfortably from T'pat's grasp.

"It's simple," Smith explained. "In case I am apprehended... you can rescue me."

"That's a great idea," the guard replied sarcastically. "So, who's going to rescue me?" T'pat scowled.

"We'll deal with that dilemma when we come to it," Smith declared, and before T'pat could stop him again, he crept to the engineer's quarters and quickly gained entry.

T'pat sighed heavily, looked to make sure the coast was still clear, and followed the wily doctor.

The guard stood watch at the door to make sure the engineer didn't catch them rifling through his belongings. Smith quickly rummaged around the room, being careful to put things back where he found them, so as to not arouse suspicion. After a few minutes, he found what he was looking for, schematics to the power and communications systems.

"What are those?" T'pat asked.

"Schematics," Smith replied.

T'pat let out an exasperated sigh, "I can see that. What are they schematics of?"

"The less you know, the better," Smith answered. He quickly memorized the information he needed, folded the schematics neatly, and placed them back where he found them.

"Just promise me two things," T'pat requested.

"What?"

"That you're on MY side and you won't get the both of us killed," T'pat replied.

The doctor chuckled. "Rest assured, my friend. The answer is affirmative to both. I have what I need. I suggest we make a hasty departure."

Just as they exited the room, the chief engineer turned the corner. T'pat grabbed the doctor roughly and hauled him down the corridor, hoping they hadn't been spotted leaving the room. The engineer simply stared at the doctor, never having seen a human before.

When the halls were clear and it was safe, T'pat stopped and turned Smith to face him. "Don't let me EVER catch you doing that again. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you," Smith replied. "You won't catch me next time."

The angry scowl on T'pat's face faded and he laughed. He couldn't believe the audacity of this human, but somehow he also couldn't help but like him.

"Come on," T'pat grabbed his arm again. "Let's get you back to the stockade before you really get into trouble."

Smith, having everything he needed for the moment, accompanied T'pat back without further incident.

\----------------

**The Doctor's Comments:**   _The race is on, dear reader, to use the information I have gleaned during my stealthy surveillance of the alien compound. I fervently hope that my clandestine activities have gone unnoticed by the rest of these repulsive reptilians and that the Professor and the Major return soon. As always, an amiable assessment of my adventure would not be amiss. I challenge you, dear reader, to leave rosy reviews with an abundance of alliterations._


	8. Conspiracies

As Smith entered the stockade and neared the Robinson camp, he thought he was hallucinating for a moment. He squinted his eyes and looked again. There stood the Professor and Major West, receiving a hearty welcome back from the family. The doctor quickened his pace and arrived just in time to hear an explanation of their return.

"...and M'jek declared us physically 'unfit' and sent us back here," the Professor explained. "He's recommended humans be confined to domestic tasks."

"It pays to have friends in the right places, eh, Smith?" West stated.

"It does, indeed, Major," Smith replied. "For what it's worth, I am pleased to see the two of you have returned unharmed."

"So are we, doctor," the Professor replied. "It could have easily turned out different. The working conditions were horrible."

"OSHA would have a field day," Don interrupted.

The Professor continued, "If M'jek hadn't pulled us aside, we might have been right in the thick of the building collapse that happened while we were there. Dozens killed and many more injured."

Smith's eyebrows raised slightly in alarm. "Domestic tasks, you say?" he replied. "I'll have to express our thanks to M'jek next time I see him."

The others heartily agreed.

...

When word came to T'pat that M'jek had returned, he immediately went to see him.

"T'pat, my friend, I trust things went well while I was gone?"

"Well, not exactly," T'pat admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"The doctor... it seems there is much more to him than we knew," T'pat explained.

"Oh? Please, enlighten me," M'jek requested.

"He's a clever one, M'jek. He requested a meeting with Mal J'hat and along the way, he gave me the slip. Somehow, he found his way to the engineer's quarters before I caught up with him. He managed to get ahold of some schematics, of what, I'm not sure," T'pat filled M'jek in on all the details of his adventure.

"Did you check the security files? It could be dangerous if this breach is discovered by someone other than us." M'jek worried that the doctor's illicit activities could jeopardize everything.

"I did," T'pat confirmed. "M'jek, you won't believe this. He was gone from my sight for more than ten minutes. Of all that time, he is not seen in security footage once. Even the point at which he slipped away was not captured. He must have discovered where the cameras were and timed his movements with their visual sweeps. That made me highly suspicious, so I referenced security's dossier on him. He is military, M'jek. He has the rank of Colonel in something called the United States Air Force."

"Very interesting," M'jek replied, deep in thought. "Do you trust this man, T'pat?"

"Despite this breach, M'jek... Yes, I do. I'm not sure why, but I think his aims are somewhat aligned with ours," T'pat explained.

"I see. I trust your assessment. I think  _Colonel_  Smith just might become very valuable to our cause. T'pat, go to their ship and see if you can find anything else on him."

"Will do," T'pat turned and left quickly.

T'pat wasted no time making the journey to the Jupiter 2. The Robot saw a lone hover bike leave the complex from his surveillance spot near the hidden Chariot, but was neither inclined, nor equipped, to follow it.

T'pat searched the upper deck of the ship, not finding much in the way of information. When he went to the lower deck, he quickly found Smith's cabin and rummaged through it. In the closet, he found the Colonel's uniform. Though unfamiliar with human customs, let alone their military, it seemed to T'pat that Colonel Smith was highly decorated. He captured an image of the uniform to show M'jek and replaced it where he found it in the closet. Not finding much else, he moved on to other cabins.

He found personal logs in Major West's and Professor Robinson's cabins, which he translated to Asmani with the help of the computer embedded in the communications gauntlet he wore. He imaged the pages that yielded the most information about Colonel Smith to also show M'jek. The doctor certainly was becoming more interesting by the moment.

T'pat returned a few hours later with a full report on Doctor Smith. He showed M'jek the images, pointing out the decorations on Smith's uniform and showing him the translation of the logs.

M'jek furrowed his brow as he looked at the logs. "Sabotage? Are you sure?"

"That is what the translation says," T'pat confirmed. "I don't think it's a mistake. Both Professor Robinson and Major West suspect that Colonel Smith was trapped aboard their ship when he attempted to sabotage their mission."

"I thought they were all family," M'jek stated. "They certainly seem to accept him as such. And Colonel Smith seems to be concerned for their welfare. I'm not sure I understand this. How could they be so close when they suspect Smith tried to kill them? Why would they even let him live?"

T'pat shook his head. "I don't know, M'jek. They must have their reasons. Do you still think we can trust him?"

M'jek immediately asked T'pat the same question.

"If the Robinsons can accept him as one of their own despite their suspicions, I think we can trust him," T'pat answered.

The doctor nodded. "I agree. Fetch Colonel Smith. I think we need to talk."

T'pat acknowledged M'jek's command and went to get Smith.

As T'pat approached the Robinsons, he noted how at ease they seemed around the doctor. He certainly fit right in to the family dynamic. The doctor was examining Will's shoulder when T'pat arrived.

"It's healing nicely, Will," Smith pronounced. "Full range of motion, excellent."

Will smiled, but the smile faded as he saw a guard come to stand behind the doctor.

Smith followed Will's gaze and stood to meet T'pat.

"Hello, T'pat," Smith greeted. "Is there something wrong?"

"Come with me, doctor. M'jek requests your presence," T'pat stated.

"Any particular reason?" Smith inquired.

"It's of a personal and private nature, doctor," T'pat replied.

The doctor was intrigued and left willingly with the guard.

T'pat brought Smith to M'jek's office desk and M'jek motioned for the doctor to sit.

Before he sat, Smith questioned, "What is this about?"

"We have some questions for you...  _Colonel_  Smith," M'jek replied.

Smith slowly took a seat. His face remained impassive, but his mind was racing furiously, anticipating what questions they'd ask and forming his responses in his head.

"Proceed," Smith answered with as much bravado as he could muster.

"Why didn't you tell us you were a military man?" M'jek asked.

"I thought you already knew. Besides, I didn't think it mattered," Smith replied.

M'jek showed the images T'pat had taken on the Jupiter 2. "Do you know what these are?" he asked.

Smith studied the images for a moment and then pronounced, "They appear to be personal logs. From the handwriting, I would guess they belong to Professor Robinson and Major West."

"Take a closer look, Colonel," M'jek suggested.

"I prefer 'Doctor'," Smith requested. He leaned forward and studied the images though he already knew what was there. He raised his eyebrows in mock surprise.

"Well? Care to comment?" T'pat asked.

"Obviously, Major West and Professor Robinson are sadly mistaken in their accusations. I had come back aboard the ship shortly before launch to check the helium/nitrogen ratio. I just had a nagging feeling I had turned the valve the wrong way," Smith lied. "Unfortunately, I was trapped aboard at launch, which ended up being quite fortunate for the Robinsons, as computer projections had shown the ship would have been destroyed by an asteroid had my extra weight not been added to the mission."

M'jek cocked his head to one side, trying to figure out the man sitting before him. Little did he know what an impossible task that was. "So, am I to understand you are not the saboteur of the Jupiter 2?"

"I am not," Smith proclaimed his innocence. "The Professor and Major have no evidence with which to prove their claim."

"You have no experience in the art of sabotage?" T'pat rephrased M'jek's question.

"I do not," Smith answered. "I thought I'd made that clear." The doctor was becoming agitated at the line of questioning. "Now, if I may ask a question, what is this all about?"

"We are trying to determine, Colonel, if you possess the skills we need and whether or not you are... trustworthy," M'jek stated.

"I would hope, gentlemen, that my actions since we've met would be proof enough that I am trustworthy," Smith replied indignantly.

"Oh, you have been in most of our dealings, doctor. But there's still the question as to why you escaped from T'pat's custody and what you were searching for in the engineer's quarters." M'jek continued his interrogation.

Smith sighed. "A way to escape, doctor. Surely you can't fault me for that."

"I suppose not," M'jek conceded. "T'pat tells me that he reviewed the security files and was prepared to destroy evidence of your breach. However, there was none. How did you avoid detection?"

"Dumb luck," Smith lied. He was not about to admit how observant he had been and what information he had gleaned while being escorted through the halls to M'jek's quarters.

M'jek let out an exasperated sigh. "Doctor, T'pat here believes that our aims and yours are similar. Yours being escape for you and your... family. Ours being release of all prisoners and destruction of this facility. We believe, despite your protestations, that you have the skills we need to accomplish our mission."

"Even if I had such skills, as you claim," Smith argued, "my interest in using them would only extend to freeing the Robinsons. I will not risk my life and limb for anyone but them."

"I see," M'jek said, his voice heavy with disappointment. "Should you change your mind, we would be most interested in working with you, doctor."

"I'm flattered, gentlemen, by the offer, but my mind will not change. Now, if there's nothing further, I'd like to get back to... my family," Smith responded.

M'jek simply waved at T'pat to take Smith back to the stockade. Smith took a few steps to the door, then turned back, one more question on his mind. "I trust this won't affect our medical efforts with the prisoners?"

M'jek confirmed it wouldn't and Smith left with his escort.

When Smith arrived back in the stockade Major West could see he was clearly agitated.

"What's wrong, Smith? Where've you been?" he asked.

"Not that it's any of your business, Major, but if you must know, they interrogated me," Smith replied. "They found out I was a colonel in the United States Air Force. It's apparently important to them."

"If they knew what kind of a colonel you were, they wouldn't care," West prodded.

"And just what is that supposed to mean?" Smith asked, insulted.

"Come on, Smith. We both know how you got your rank," West puckered his lips and made kissing noises, insinuating Smith rose through the ranks by kissing his superiors' rear ends.

"Major, I  _earned_  every promotion I received. Every medal, every ribbon, I  _earned_  them all. You may not respect me, Major, but at least respect my accomplishments," Smith steamed.

"You're a good liar, I'll give you that," West replied. "You almost make me want to believe you."

Smith shook his head in irritation. "Major, go away. You irk me."

"Is that an order, Colonel?" West said sarcastically. He threw in a mock salute.

The doctor let out an exasperated sigh and stalked off.

The Major laughed it off, fully expecting that to be the end of things. He hadn't expected Judy to have seen the exchange. As soon as he saw her striding towards him, he knew he was in trouble.

"Don, that wasn't very nice," she complained.

Rather than argue with her, the Major decided it would be best to placate and apologize.

"I'm sorry, Judy. It's just that, I'm so frustrated being here with no means of escape. Smith just brings out the worst in me and makes himself a very easy target to take my frustrations..."

"Don't go blaming this on Doctor Smith, Don," Judy interrupted.

"I'm not, I'm not," West held his hands up to placate her. "I'm sorry. Ok?"

"I'm not the person you need to apologize to," Judy responded.

The look on West's face said "You've got to be kidding me", but to keep the peace, he agreed to apologize when the doctor came back.

...

After dropping Smith off in the stockade, T'pat returned to M'jek's office.

"So, that's it then?" T'pat asked. "The doctor will not cooperate. What now?"

M'jek sat silently for a moment, then addressed the guard. "I don't believe that's it, T'pat. The doctor  _will_  work with us. He just needs a little... persuasion. Something that will change his mind. We must wait for the right opportunity."


	9. Fools Rush In

Many of the guards, some of whom were strongly devoted to Mal J'hat, noticed Smith's growing rapport with T'pat. One in particular, calculating that a report of the doctor's activities may find him favor, decided to inform his chief.

"That is... interesting," Mal J'hat replied, deep in thought over the report he'd just heard. "I think it's about time I met this Doctor Smith."

"Very good, sir," the guard replied. "I will fetch him for you."

"The doctor needs to be taught a lesson on how things work here," Mal J'hat snarled.

...

As the Robinsons, Major West, and Doctor Smith were sharing another meal of prison rations together, several prisoners came rushing toward the Robinsons' camp. They were obviously very agitated. The Professor noticed their approach first and rose to greet them, an unsettling feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. The others turned to see what was going on.

Two large Kir Gal males grabbed the doctor's arms and started to haul him off. Smith took issue with their actions quite vocally while the Professor and Major attempted to step in and stop them.

The aliens explained that they had information that a guard was coming for Smith. Fearing that Mal J'hat knew that Smith had been aiding the prisoners and was intent on harming him, they had come to hide the doctor. Smith immediately became silent and trembled visibly at the news. He turned and bolted in the direction the Kir Gal had been taking him, the Kir Gal males following closely behind. They quickly caught up to him, grabbed his arms, and carried him faster than the terrified doctor could run.

Several of the remaining aliens quickly devised a plan with the Robinsons to stall and cover for the doctor's absence, while the rest of the aliens set off in different directions from the camp. One of the Kir Gal laid nonchalantly on the doctor's bed. Several moments later, the guard arrived.

"Where is Doctor Smith?" he inquired.

"He's not here," the Professor answered.

"I can see that," the guard barked, clearly agitated. "Where did he go?"

The humans all shrugged while the Kir Gal and Utak confirmed in their respective languages that they had no idea of the doctor's whereabouts.

The guard punched a button on the communicator on his wrist and made a request for something the humans didn't quite understand. The alien prisoners, however, seemed to know what was going on.

Within a few minutes, another guard arrived with a pair of four legged creatures that somewhat resembled dogs.

"The t'kurra will find him," the first guard announced as he took the leashes from the second guard.

"Is this his bed?" the guard asked, gesturing to where the Kir Gal lay.

The Professor nodded.

The guard ordered the Kir Gal off the bed and the t'kurra immediately began sniffing to try to pick up the doctor's scent. They were having trouble isolating the scent of the human over the stronger scent of the Kir Gal. The t'kurra sniffed aimlessly around the camp, confused. After a few minutes, one of them appeared to finally catch the scent and headed off in the direction the Kir Gal had taken Smith.

The Robinsons, Major West, and the aliens all cast worried glances at each other as the guards disappeared from sight. The Professor thanked the Kir Gal and Utak for their assistance before the aliens left to return to their own areas.

In the far reaches of the cavernous room, the Kir Gal were busy hiding the doctor under one of their beds. One female lay atop the bed while several Kir Gal children sat in front of it, the blanket draped over the side to conceal the doctor. Underneath it, Smith tried to keep himself from hyperventilating. He tried to listen to what was going on, but he could barely hear a thing over the furious pounding of his heart.

The Kir Gal grew nervous as they watched the team of t'kurra and their handlers steadily heading their direction. The t'kurra eventually pinpointed their quarry, alerting their masters by sniffing and growling at the bed.

The guards angrily ordered the prisoners away from the bed and they hesitantly complied. The guard who had informed Mal J'hat grabbed the blanket, pulled it off the bed, and tossed it aside. He knelt down and peered under the bed. What he saw was the frightened gaze of the human doctor looking back at him.

The guard grabbed the doctor's arm and tried pulling him out from underneath the bed, but Smith grasped whatever handhold he could manage with his other hand and resisted. He immediately released his grip, however, when he felt cold, sharp metal pressed against his neck. With one swift pull, the doctor slid out from underneath the bed. The two guards hauled him up to a standing position and shoved Smith forward, laser pistols trained on his back. Smith spared a glance over his shoulder and paled at the sight. He walked ahead as commanded, mind racing and heart pounding over his possible fate.

As soon as the guards were out of sight, one of the aliens went back to the Robinson camp to inform them of what had happened. He apologized, though the Professor assured him there was no need and again thanked them for taking a risk for the doctor. All the Robinsons and Major West could do was wait and pray that Smith would not be harmed.

The guard that had brought the team of t'kurra parted ways with the first guard when they reached the stockade entrance. The first guard marched Smith toward Mal J'hat's quarters.

The guard waved his hand in front of a panel on the outside of the chief's quarters. A speaker above the panel announced permission to enter. The guard grabbed Smith by the arm and dragged him along behind, then shoved him forward to face Mal J'hat. The chief casually reclined in a large well cushioned lounge chair, seemingly disinterested in the human that stood before him.

The guard saluted the leader and announced his visitor. Seeing as he'd have to interact with the prisoner, Mal J'hat donned the headset that would serve as translator. He dismissed the guard with a wave and sat up.

"Ah, yes," Mal J'hat responded through the headset. "You were with the humans from the ship we raided. Smith, is it?"

Smith nodded, wisely declining to speak unless absolutely necessary. His instincts told him to let the alien to steer the conversation and to keep his mouth shut.

"I have heard you've been quite busy, doctor," Mal J'hat stated. "Treating the prisoners' medical ailments..."

Smith again declined to comment and allowed the alien to continue.

"How is the boy?" Mal J'hat inquired, keenly aware, from the information the guard gave him, of the doctor's fondness for the little human.

"He's recovering, slowly but surely," Smith replied hesitantly.

Mal J'hat shook his head, a malevolent smirk on his face. "That's too bad. I should've finished him off when I had the chance. He's useless to us. At least the filthy t'kurra that roam around this place eat our garbage. The boy isn't even as useful as a stinking t'kurra," he laughed heartily at the insult.

Smith struggled to maintain a passive expression. He already knew he despised the alien simply from the stories he'd heard about him, but the more he spoke, the more Smith felt the urge to do something to wipe that smirk off his face. He only wished he had the courage to do so.

The doctor was not the only person in the complex who despised the alien leader. He was genuinely liked by very few individuals. His cruel and callous demeanor did not win him many friends, as Smith had learned quickly, but rank had its privileges. Mal J'hat reveled in his position of power and the freedom it gave him to taunt and torment those around him.

Mal J'hat quickly found he especially enjoyed harassing Smith. "Are you humans one of those species that displays their trophies on the wall? How do you think the boy's head would look right here?" he said pointing to a spot on the wall.

He could see from Smith's expression, the doctor was not amused. Smith's mind screamed at him to commence a blistering verbal assault against the alien, but he clenched his jaw shut to avoid saying something he would regret. His whole body tensed and trembled, a mixture of fear and rage building with no outlet. He grabbed the chain of his manacles and held it taut between his hands.

The chief needled him further. "I could feed the rest of him to the t'kurra. They do so love garbage," he laughed.

It briefly occurred to Smith that perhaps Mal J'hat was trying to goad him into a physical confrontation for some reason. What disturbed him even more was the thought that he was quickly reaching the point where he might actually oblige. He shook the thought out of his mind and tried to fortify himself against any further taunts the alien might hurl at him.

The doctor's instincts were correct. It was Mal J'hat's every intention to provoke the doctor into a confrontation. He had been informed of the other prisoners' attempts to hide and defend the doctor. In addition, his chief medical officer was involved in the human doctor's activities, meaning any misfortune that should befall Smith would most likely trigger an investigation. It was clear that his desire to rid himself of the pesky human would have to be handled delicately or he'd risk punishment from the high council. His father was likely still fuming from the reports of the last time the high council humiliated him. Unlike most things he did to prisoners, this would have to be done in as legal a manner as he could manage. Provoking the human to violence against him would be just the thing to ensure the doctor's demise and would send a strong message to the rest of the prison population.

He pressed a button on the gauntlet on his left arm. A voice responded and he ordered his guards to fetch the human boy named Will. Mal J'hat rose and selected a polearm from an impressive display of a multitude of weapons on the wall behind him. The weapon stood a foot shorter than both the alien and the human, including the spike on the end. It closely resembled a small halberd, only the axe blade was serrated. It was very ornate, most likely ceremonial, Smith guessed. But, as the doctor observed, it was definitely sharp enough to inflict fatal damage. The other end of the weapon held a smaller crescent shaped blade, just as sharp and intimidating.

Smith swallowed hard, realizing what Mal J'hat had in mind. His pent up rage quickly turned to pure fear. The doctor hated physical confrontations, only engaging in them when absolutely necessary. He had a gnawing feeling in his gut that for the sake of Will, and more importantly himself, he would have to stop Mal J'hat from carrying out his plans. Whether that meant verbal confrontation or physical, he did not know yet, but he decided then and there he'd do whatever was necessary. Despite the fear gnawing at him, he realized he couldn't live with himself if Will came to harm and he could have done something to stop it.

"What are you planning to do with that?" Smith inquired, his voice quavering.

"What do you  _think_  I'm going to do with it?" Mal J'hat countered.

Rather than voice his suspicions, Smith ignored the question and simply replied, "What purpose would that serve? The boy may be useless in your eyes, but how does his existence harm you?"

The chief strode up to Smith and glared at him, his face mere inches away. "I am Mal J'hat. I am free to do as I please. My actions need no purpose."

The coward in Smith had the strong urge to shrink back and assuage the alien's ego. But something within the doctor would not allow him to back down from this vile creature. Before he could stop himself, he spoke, "On my world, it is seen as weakness for one to destroy another that is smaller and weaker than one's self. There is no challenge or honor in it."

Mal J'hat took a step back and thought for a second, apparently unsure of whether he should feel insulted or not. Angrily he barked, "What do I care of the customs on your world? Your word 'honor' has no meaning to me."

"That's obvious," Smith muttered.

Ignoring Smith's comment, the incensed leader continued, "I am chief of the Asmani. The people fear me for the power I wield. Nobody tells me what I can or cannot do. No one tells me what is or is not proper. That is for ME to decide!"

Smith could just imagine what the Robot would say at this exact moment. "Warning! Warning! Tactical error committed!" The doctor mentally kicked himself. He assumed the leader would not want to be seen as weak and would therefore spare the boy. It was apparent, Mal J'hat didn't care. He acted like a spoiled child. He had a hair trigger temper. He had no shame in attacking and tormenting the weak. He was essentially a bully. And in Smith's experience, he knew most bullies were cowards if they encountered resistance. How much of a coward the leader was remained to be seen and Smith wondered how much of his own cowardice he could suppress if needed.

A chime announced the arrival of the guards, who were commanded to escort the boy inside. Doctor Smith, with a quick glance, appraised the boy's condition. Although he had made significant recovery from his injuries, Will looked pale with fear. The boy looked questioningly at Smith, who simply shrugged and smiled weakly. The guards were dismissed and left quickly.

Mal J'hat assessed the two humans before him. He strode over to Will and swung the end of weapon around so the smaller crescent blade was facing forward. The action caused Smith to take a halting step forward. The alien turned to look at him, his face revealing a warning to stay back.

The alien chief slowly waved the blade in front of the boy, relishing the look of fear on his face. "Do you remember, little human, when you confronted me on your ship?"

Will nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."

"I was just telling your friend Smith that I should have finished you off that night." Mal J'hat laughed when the boy gulped audibly and his eyes widened. Will looked at Smith, the expression on his face clearly a plea for the doctor to do something. The pained expression on Smith's face did nothing to inspire confidence.

"I intend to do that now," he continued. "Kneel." Will hesitated, looking to Smith for guidance. Smith nodded, reasoning that when the time came for action, the quicker Will could hit the floor and get out of the way, the better. The boy complied, but was confused. He hoped the doctor had a plan, but couldn't help but think Smith might actually let the alien kill him in order to save his own skin.

"Good. Now close your eyes."

Again, Will looked at Smith. This time, Smith spoke, "If you're going to kill the boy, at least be a man about it. Only cowards won't face their victims eye to eye."

Annoyed, the chief swung around and leveled the blade in Smith's direction. "You will be next, Smith. I will make sure it's especially painful. Do you have any further comments?"

Smith quickly and silently shook his head and Mal J'hat turned back to the boy. "Close your eyes. I will not ask again." Will, trembling, shut his eyes tight.

Mal J'hat flipped the weapon around again, intending to use the heavier blade. With both hands, he swung the weapon back. Just as he was about to begin his downstroke, something knocked the weapon from his grasp, leaving a large, bloody gash on his right hand. Shocked by the sudden pain, he didn't notice the figure rushing towards him. A split second later, he was on the floor, the cold metal chains of Smith's manacles biting into his neck. He struggled to lift Smith's hands, but he was no match for the doctor's adrenalin fueled rage. The sheer panic in Mal J'hat's face only encouraged Smith. The alien struggled to reach his gauntlet and punched the button to summon the guards.

Smith looked around for Will. He was still kneeling, eyes shut tight, afraid to see what was going on. "Will! Run!" Smith pleaded, but the boy hesitated. "GO!" Smith commanded.

As Will turned to run, four guards rushed in. One grabbed Will and restrained him. Another locked his arms around Smith's neck in a choke hold and pulled him off the ground, forcing him to release his grip on Mal J'hat. Smith elbowed his attacker in the mid-section and backhanded him in the face with the metal cuff on his wrist. As the guard stumbled back, grabbing at his bleeding nose, Smith picked up Mal J'hat's weapon and swept the guard's legs out from under him.

Another guard came at him, swinging a sword down upon him with both hands. Smith thrust his weapon upwards to parry the blow, catching the sword's blade with the serrated teeth of his own blade. He immediately stepped towards his attacker and swung the tail of the weapon around, catching the guard in the head and knocking him to the ground. He leveled his weapon at the guard, but immediately ducked to avoid the glistening blade that another guard had thrown from behind the first. It nicked his temple as it went by, eliciting a surprised yelp from the doctor, and it stuck firmly into the wall behind him. His eyes widened in fear at the close call and another surge of adrenalin caused his heart to pound faster.

Will watched in awe as the doctor displayed tenacity and prowess he had been sure the man did not possess. He cheered his friend on, grateful he seemed to have the upper hand so far, but fully aware of the consequences of failure. Mal J'hat, who had regained consciousness, watched in horror as he saw his guards disarmed and held at bay by a single aging human. He scrambled towards the door, which did not go unnoticed by the doctor, and hovered there. Mal J'hat was mesmerized by the fight, but ready to make a hasty exit if needed.

Smith spared a quick glance to see where the projectile launched at his head had landed. He quickly realized his mistake as he turned back and was greeted by a thundering blow across his jaw. As he stumbled backward, his vision grayed for a split second, but miraculously he kept his feet beneath him. Unfortunately, he couldn't manage to hang on to his weapon.

The guard stood before Smith, stance wide and arms ready to grab the disarmed doctor. As Smith fell to his knees, Mal J'hat was sure the doctor was signaling surrender and the fight was about to end, but the wily doctor was not quite through yet. He dove to the ground and crawled through the guard's legs. The bewildered guard tried reaching down and grabbing the man, but was surprised by a boot against his backside, which sent him headfirst into a wall. As Smith pushed himself up, he was again greeted by swinging arm, which he quickly ducked. Staying low, he tackled the last guard and landed his own blow against the alien's iron jaw. He yelped and shook his hand in pain.

The guard reached for the laser pistol at his hip and attempted to bring it to bear on the doctor. Smith grabbed the guard's hand and the two struggled with the pistol as it inched closer and closer to his head. The guard fired off a few shots, which were close enough that the heat from the discharge raised small blisters on the side of Smith's face. Determined not to see his head disintegrated, Smith bit into the wrist of his opponent, who howled in response and dropped the pistol.

Unfortunately, the guard recovered quickly. Before Smith could grab the laser pistol, the guard's powerful hands encircled Smith's neck and began to squeeze. Smith grabbed the alien's fingers trying to pry them loose. The last thing he heard before blackness enveloped him was Will yelling "Doctor Smith! Look out!"

The guard on the floor shoved the unconscious doctor off him. The other guard, standing over them with a club in one hand, offered to help him up. Mal J'hat smiled as he unconsciously rubbed his sore neck. The guards looked at him for direction.

With an exhausted wave of his hand, he commanded "Take them both back to the stockade. I've had enough of humans today."

The two guards who had defeated Smith each grasped one of his shackled wrists and dragged him out of the quarters. They were followed by the guard who was still restraining Will. On the way back, one of the guards received a communication from Mal J'hat directing him to convey a message to the doctor when he awoke. The guard acknowledged the orders.

The Robinsons and West stood as the trio of guards approached. The two guards dragging Smith dropped him face first on the floor and the guard restraining Will released him. Two of the guards left without a word, while one stood back, waiting for Smith to regain consciousness. The humans eyed him suspiciously, but quickly disregarded him. Maureen gathered Will into her arms and hugged him. He buried his face into her, not ready to talk about the experience.

Smith moaned and rolled over onto his back. When he opened his eyes, he saw Major West hovering over him, with several of the Robinson's faces crowded behind him.

"Smith, what happened to you?" West inquired.

Smith sat up with some difficulty and brought a hand to his pounding head. "I don't quite remember."

At that moment, the remaining guard stepped forward and unceremoniously announced "Doctor Smith, you brutally attacked our chief, Mal J'hat. You are to stand trial for his attempted murder." His orders carried out, the guard turned and quickly left.

"Oh, right," Smith said sheepishly as he pointed toward where guard had stood. "That's what happened." Then the words hit him full force and his left cheek twitched in a barely perceptible tic. "Attempted murder?" His mind raced trying to determine just what the penalty was for such a charge. Suddenly, he decided he preferred not to know.

"Attempted murder?" The Professor echoed. Unable to believe the charges, the Professor made assumptions. "Smith, what did you do that got you pummeled by guards and brought up on phony charges?" he inquired.

"No," Will corrected. "Not phony."

"You mean you actually tried to murder their chief?" West asked incredulously.

Smith hesitated, his mind still trying to comprehend the depth of trouble he was in. He eventually nodded in confirmation. "If you consider strangling him attempted murder, then technically that would be correct. But, I only did so in a moment of weakness," he cringed. Smith further qualified his answer, "He was threatening to harm Will." His actions confirmed by both the guard and Will, he had no choice but to confess.

"A moment of weakness? You tried to strangle him? I'm surprised you're still in one piece. Taking on their chief, especially when he's in a position to crush you like a bug, doesn't fit any definition of weakness I know. It does fit my definition of crazy, however," West argued.

Smith bristled at West's suggestion. "Major, I'm quite certain of my sanity. Although  _yours_  may be a bit suspect." He thought for a moment and then continued, "No, it was  _definitely_  weakness."

"Well, tell us what happened," the Professor prodded.

Smith looked at Will, knowing the boy would talk if he didn't, and would most certainly embellish the story, as children are wont to do. Hesitantly, he began, "First, let me just preface this by telling you that Mal J'hat is one of the most vile, cruel, disgusting beings I've ever had the misfortune to meet." Will nodded in agreement. "From the moment I entered his quarters, he was intent on provoking me into a physical confrontation, which I vehemently resisted, despite his crude taunts."

"Like what?" West probed.

The doctor shot the major a dirty look.

"I'm just trying to decipher what kind of taunt would cause you, avowed man of peace that you are," West said half mockingly, "to resort to violence."

Smith sighed, knowing the major would keep badgering him unless he threw him some bones. "He told me he should have finished off Will the night they captured all of you."

"He was the one that shot Will?" the Professor asked.

Smith nodded in confirmation.

"And that's when you went after him?" West questioned.

"No," Smith shook his head. He continued, "He told me...", looking over at Will and Mrs. Robinson, Smith lowered his voice. "He told me the boy's head would look good as a trophy on his wall."

"And THAT's when you went after him..." the Professor proclaimed.

Smith shook his head again. "He said he'd feed the rest of him to his alien pets." He looked between West and the Professor to see if they were going to interrupt him again, but their expressions simply told him to continue.

"He ordered his guards to bring Will. Then, he removed a large bladed weapon from the wall. When Will arrived, he ordered him to kneel and he readied the weapon."

Smith relived the feeling of Mal J'hat's neck being crushed beneath the chains of his manacles. A small part of him was revolted that he enjoyed it, the rest of him indulged in the feeling. The memories caused anger to flare again. He confessed, "I believe that was when I attempted to throttle the bastard."

The Professor's eyebrows rose at Smith's uncharacteristic choice of language. "Your 'moment of weakness'?" the Professor confirmed.

"Yes," Smith nodded.

"You are a far more tolerant man than I, doctor," the Professor smiled. "I would have throttled him much sooner," the Professor confessed.

"Me too," West added.

"And that's when the guards proceeded to pummel you..." the Professor concluded.

"Precisely," Smith replied, conveniently neglecting to mention the pummeling he had dished out.

Satisfied that Smith was done with the story, the two men helped him over to one of the beds, while Judy and Penny brought water and some cloths to the bedside. The two Robinson women tended to the battered and bruised doctor, while the men and Mrs. Robinson tended to Will.

"Are you ok, son?" the Professor asked.

Will nodded. "I am now, thanks to Doctor Smith."

The Professor smiled and ruffled his son's hair.

"You should have seen him, dad!" Will exclaimed. Smith, overhearing the boy, groaned, not from pain, but from the knowledge that his carefully cultured image as an inept coward was about to be blown to smithereens. Smith feigned unconsciousness, not wanting to face the questioning stares that were soon to come. He would deny it all later, suggesting the boy was exaggerating, the guards were clumsy, or some other ruse, but he doubted they would believe him. Perhaps he'd get lucky and they'd just forget all about it.

Will proceeded to give a blow by blow account of what he had seen of the fight. Occasionally, Judy and Penny stopped their ministrations to the ailing doctor to hear snippets of Will's tale, only to turn back to stare at his inert form suspiciously.

West was the most enthralled of them all. He grinned like the cheshire cat, filing all of this away to use against his sparring partner later.

When Will's tale was over, Maureen brought Will to Doctor Smith's bedside. Major West followed.

"Doctor Smith?" Maureen asked, intending to gently rouse the doctor from his slumber.

Smith ignored the woman, hoping she would go away.

"Doctor Smith?" she said a little louder.

Smith opened his eyes and, trying to keep the annoyance from his voice, replied "Yes, Mrs. Robinson?"

"Will told us how you defended him, Doctor Smith. It took a lot of courage to do what you did. Thank you," Mrs. Robinson gently squeezed the doctor's arm.

Smith spared a dull glance from Will to his mother. "It is indeed a banner day, madame," he announced tiredly as he plopped his head back on the pillow and tried to massage away the pain in his head. "For Doctor Zachary Smith shall surely never attempt something that stupid again," he groaned. "I think even my bruises have bruises. Courage, indeed. Sheer, blinding idiocy is more like it." He turned to look at the Robinson matriarch and his features softened. In a barely audible voice, he added, "But... you're welcome."

West laughed. "Well, for once, Smith, I'm glad your 'sheer, blinding idiocy' came in handy."

Smith visibly cringed at West's statement.

Mrs. Robinson ushered everyone away. "Come on, everyone. Let's let Doctor Smith get some rest."


	10. Caged

Smith hadn't been asleep for long when another pair of guards arrived at the Robinson camp. West and the Professor attempted to ascertain their purpose, but the guards were tight lipped. When they roused Smith and hauled him to his feet, the two tried to step in, but were shoved aside forcefully. As the guards drew their laser pistols, they warned the humans that they wouldn't survive another attempt at interference. Smith, despite the fear that gripped him, shook his head in a silent plea with the men not to cause trouble that might have unfortunate consequences. The guards flanked Smith and each grabbed an arm to escort him away. Oddly enough, they marched the doctor farther into the cavernous stockade living quarters and not toward the entrance. The Professor and Major followed some distance behind to see where they were taking him.

The trio stopped before what appeared to be a cell carved into the rock wall of the cavern. A metal frame surrounded the entrance, but there were no bars. The floor was bare concrete. There appeared to be a sink in the back and a small alcove, presumably for a toilet of some sort. One of the guards appeared to call someone via his communications device. In a matter of seconds, bright lights flickered on inside the cell. They shoved Smith inside and he hit the ground sliding, much like his original entrance to the stockade. After another brief call from one of the guards, a forcefield flickered into existence at the mouth of the cell.

Satisfied he wasn't in immediate danger, Smith sat up and risked voicing his displeasure, "I'm getting quite tired of this. You guards  _do_ understand that I'm quite capable of  _walking_  where you wish me to go, don't you?"

The guards both grinned wickedly and just shrugged. "You will wait here until your trial," one of the guards informed through his translator, while the other one made another call.

"Can you at least remove these dreadful things?" Smith held up his wrists, indicating the manacles.

The two guards shook their heads and left, making sure to roughly shoulder their way past the doctor's companions.

Smith stood and made his way to the front of the cell. Cautiously, he touched the forcefield and let loose an uncharacteristic expletive as he pulled his hand away.

The Professor and Major West walked up to the cell. Smith regarded the two and sighed. "Gentlemen, I can't help but think I've been 'set up', so to speak. Mal J'hat must have found out I was providing medical aid to prisoners and apparently despised me for finding a way around his directive. He had little recourse to get rid of me since M'jek was involved, providing me with the protection of Asmani law, and it wasn't  _technically_  a breach of his directive. If he changed his directive, he still could not get rid of me without consequence from the high council, since I would not risk mine or M'jek's safety to continue. So, he placed me in a no-win situation. He threatened to kill William. Whether or not he would have gone through with it is moot because his intention from the beginning was to goad me into a physical confrontation that would legally seal my fate." The doctor released a despondent sigh. "I'm doomed."

"It's a frame-up if I ever saw one," West confirmed.

"You're not doomed yet," the Professor stated. "We don't even know if attempted murder carries a death penalty in Asmani law."

Both Smith and West cast incredulous looks at the Professor.

"Ok, well, I'll concede that it most likely does," he amended. "But there's still the matter of the trial. Perhaps the high council will show leniency given your service to the prisoners."

The incredulous looks on Smith's and West's faces remained.

"Ok, that's another long shot," the Professor conceded again.

"Do the words 'kangaroo court' mean anything to you, Professor?" Smith asked.

"I admit, things look... bleak, right now, but we'll think of something," the Professor vowed.

"I'm doomed," Smith repeated.

...

The guard who had informed on Smith's activities waved his hand in front of the panel to Mal J'hat's quarters, requesting permission to enter.

"Come in," Mal J'hat grunted.

"Sir," the guard began, "Doctor Smith has been relocated to maximum security."

"Good," the chief said as he took a seat behind his desk.

"If I may ask a question, sir, why didn't you just kill him? He is a prisoner. He wouldn't be missed," the guard asked.

"Because... Smith is no ordinary prisoner. If I killed the human doctor, there would be plenty of questions as to my motives. Most would assume it was because he was providing medical care to the prisoners, against my wishes. Someone was providing him supplies and that someone had to be Asmani. M'jek to be precise. That afforded Smith the protection of Asmani law in this regard. That makes him equivalent to an Asmani citizen. You remember what the high council did to me last time I killed Asmani?" Mal J'hat inquired.

The guard visibly cringed. "Yes. It was rather... distasteful."

"Humiliating. Painful. Appalling for someone of my stature," Mal J'hat complained. "As you might imagine, I have no wish to go through that again any time soon. But, if the doctor attacked me, he would forfeit the protection he enjoyed under Asmani law," Mal J'hat explained.

"You set him up," the guard deduced.

Mal J'hat smiled and stroked his bandaged hand. "He took the bait, though I never expected him to do so that violently. And for a moment, I actually thought he was going to let me kill the boy." The Asmani chief laughed. "His fate is sealed."

A few minutes later, Mal J'hat barged into the chief medical doctor's quarters, much to the surprise of M'jek.

"Mal J'hat, how nice to see you. May I help you with anything?" M'jek greeted in as ingratiating a tone as he could muster. He stood, as was customary, in the presence of his chief.

The alien chief didn't bother with pleasantries and got straight to the point. "You were giving medical supplies to the human doctor, weren't you?"

"Well, yes, Mal J'hat, I was. I didn't see the harm in it, since it was not prohibited by your directive. Is there something wrong with that?"

"It did not technically violate the directive, but you know what my intent was," the threat in Mal J'hat's voice was unmistakable.

"I'm sorry, my chief. It will not happen again," M'jek apologized.

"Did you know this human doctor you were working with tried to kill me?" Mal J'hat continued.

A look of shock flashed across M'jek's face. He, of course, didn't believe Mal J'hat's statement, but he knew it meant trouble for both Smith and him. "No," M'jek sank into the chair behind him. "I did not know. I would never have aided him if I had known he was intending to harm you, great leader."

"He is awaiting trial and will no doubt be convicted. I intend to execute him," Mal J'hat studied the doctor's face, attempting to ascertain his loyalty.

"As well you should," M'jek confirmed. "He should be made an example of, that such treachery will not be tolerated." The doctor mentally cringed as he made the statement, but his face remained impassive.

Mal J'hat smiled, pleased at M'jek's response. The doctor's words had assuaged his fears of the doctor's disloyalty, but the alien chief voiced a warning to M'jek anyway. "You will no longer aid this human, M'jek. Or there will be consequences."

"Rest assured, dear leader, I will do no more for him than my duty as chief medical officer requires," M'jek stated.

"Good," Mal J'hat answered. He turned and left quickly, leaving M'jek to ponder the turn of events.

As soon as Mal J'hat left, M'jek contacted T'pat to inform him of the Asmani chief's visit. With the disheartening news, the guard could see all their plans vanishing in a puff of smoke and it didn't sit well with him. T'pat informed M'jek he would find out when the defense counsel would be visiting Smith and would arrange for the two of them to accompany him.

Meanwhile, the alien families nearest to Smith's maximum security cell had gone to the Robinsons and offered to relinquish their spot to them, in order for the doctor to have familiar company. The Robinsons graciously accepted the offer and moved their camp with plenty of help from fellow prisoners.

As they settled in to their new spot, they saw the doctor working his way up and down the length of the cell entrance, seemingly probing the forcefield for any weaknesses. The Major would have enjoyed the sight of the doctor being repeatedly shocked, if it weren't for the fact that the man was in such serious trouble.

Smith ran a hand up and down the smooth metal that housed the components that generated the forcefield, his mind obviously working furiously on a problem. Then he ran his hand along the seam where the frame of the forcefield generator met the wall. His gaze followed his hand, then wandered around the walls and ceiling, searching for something.

The Robinsons watched as the doctor rushed to the sink near the back of the cell. Cupping his hands under the spigot, he filled them with as much water as he could carry. He went over to the metal frame and flung water against it, hoping to possibly short circuit something. The forcefield sizzled and an arc jumped outward at the doctor. An expletive flew and Smith shook his hands. "Idiot dolt!" he cursed himself. His nerves a bit frayed from the repeated jolts of electricity, he leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the ground, seemingly defeated for the moment.

The Professor walked over to the cell and asked Smith if they could talk privately for a minute. The doctor stood to talk face to face with him.

"Yes, of course, Professor," Smith said. "What is it?"

"You know, as well as I, that your incarceration in that maximum security cell has changed things," the Professor began.

Smith nodded and his heart sank as he quickly deciphered where the conversation was heading. He had been dreading this since the moment he had been thrown into the cell. After studying his new home, he had quickly resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't getting out of that cell unless the Asmani wanted him out. After all, there were no locks to pick, no bars to be manipulated, or any guards that could be jumped. He was safely tucked away, close enough to almost touch, but so far out of reach.

"If there's a way to break you out of there," the Professor continued, "I don't know what it is. Even if we could figure it out, it would probably take quite a while."

Smith held his hand up to forestall further discussion. "I understand, Professor. I am..."' he sighed, "...expendable. Do what you need to do to protect your family."

"Doctor Smith, you're not expendable. It's just that..."

"Aren't I?" Smith countered. "I am not family. And while Major West isn't either, he's closer to you all than I and he pulls more weight than I do. If anyone was to be left behind, I would be the logical choice. I don't fault you for the decision, Professor. You've been more than fair to me all these years. I don't imagine this was an easy decision for you to make."

"No, it wasn't," the Professor admitted. "I don't like having to make it. If we are successful in escaping, we  _will_  try to rescue you," he vowed.

"I appreciate the sentiment, Professor, but you and I both know I won't be here to rescue," Smith stated.

"I'm sorry," was all the Professor could think to say.

"Don't be," Smith replied. He nodded toward the children who were busy unpacking. "Save them."

The Professor nodded and having no more left to say, went back to his family. Smith once again slid to the floor.

As Will was storing some of the leftover medical supplies and rations under his bed, he glanced up and saw the doctor, sitting on the floor looking quite dejected. He walked over and sat cross-legged next to the cell.

"Hi, Doctor Smith," Will greeted.

The doctor looked over at the boy, his frown briefly replaced by the flash of a smile. "Hello, William."

"I just came over to tell you not to worry. Dad will think of something to get you out of here," Will said quite confidently.

"I wish I had your optimism, my boy," Smith replied.

Penny wandered over and sat next to Will. She chimed in, "He will, Doctor Smith. In all the years you've known him, has he ever let you down?"

"Well... no, I suppose he hasn't," Smith agreed. He wasn't about to tell them of the conversation he'd just had. He continued, "but my dear, I don't think your father has ever been in a situation quite like this."

"That doesn't matter," Penny insisted. "He's very... what's the word?"

"Adaptable?" Will offered.

"Yes," Penny agreed. "You'll see. He's probably working on the problem right now."

Smith found the children's faith in their father heartening, although he was convinced there was nothing the Professor could do. Just having the children for company raised his spirits.

The Professor and Major West watched Smith and the children, their thoughts on this latest complication to their captivity.

"John, we'll never get him out of there," West conceded.

"I know," the Professor agreed. He sighed heavily. "If the opportunity arises for the rest of us to escape, we'll have to leave him." He instantly regretted what he had just said, but his desire to protect his family overwhelmed him. He had given it a lot of thought and given the dangers he'd seen so far, he wanted his family out of harm's way as soon as possible. Uncharacteristically, he had decided to deem Smith a "necessary casualty" and he hated himself for it, especially since Smith so calmly understood.

West stood with his mouth agape at what he had just heard. "John, I can't believe that you, of all people, just said that. As much as he gets on my nerves, we just can't leave him here. He won't survive this place."

"Don, if you had the opportunity to save Judy, but it meant leaving Smith behind, would you do it?" the Professor asked.

"That's not a fair question," West replied. "If it were Maureen in that cell, or one of the kids or... me, would you leave us behind?"

The Professor stood silent, unwilling to answer the question.

"I can't believe I'm arguing on behalf of Smith," West muttered. "Look at him, John... with the children. He's just as much a part of this family now as I am," he argued. "We all go or none of us go," he insisted.

"Alright," the Professor backed down. "We'll wait to see the outcome of the trial," he suggested. He looked over towards Smith and the children, who were all smiling at something Will had just said. As if he knew they were discussing him, Smith looked up and locked eyes with the Professor for a brief moment, then focused his attention back to the children. "The Asmani may make our decision for us," the Professor said solemnly.

...

A few hours later, T'pat met M'jek in his quarters to discuss Mal J'hat's visit. The doctor went into more detail about just what was said between the two.

"You told him he should make an example of the doctor?" T'pat was shocked at M'jek's words.

"What was I supposed to say to him, T'pat? If he suspects I'm disloyal, our cause is lost and we'll be executed alongside Smith," M'jek explained.

"So, to save your own skin, you just throw Smith to the v'lkai? We were so close, M'jek. We can't let the execution go forward," T'pat pleaded.

"Do you forget we're talking about Mal J'hat? What do you propose we do?" M'jek asked. "Ask nicely?"

T'pat slammed his hand against the desk and then pointed at the doctor. "I swear, M'jek, one day I will kill Mal J'hat myself. I only wish the charges were true and Smith had beaten me to it."

"Be patient, T'pat," M'jek cautioned. "We will do what we can for the doctor. I will talk to members of the council, request leniency. We can do no more than that for now."

...

At the appointed time, T'pat and M'jek accompanied Smith's defense counsel to his cell. When they arrived, the defense counsel got right down to business, laying out Smith's very limited options. The Robinsons could tell from the look on Smith's face and the reactions of M'jek and T'pat that it wasn't going well.

"I'm not pleading guilty," Smith insisted. "He provoked me by threatening to kill Will. He threatened to kill me. I was acting in self-defense!"

M'jek attempted to calm the doctor, while T'pat sympathized with the man. The defense counsel explained again that due to the fact that the victim was the Asmani chief and there were five witnesses, under Asmani law, he had no option to plead 'not guilty'. It would be an insult to Mal J'hat and the high council. He would have to plead guilty with extenuating circumstances at best.

"Then what's the point of a trial?" Smith asked. "I'm already convicted. I'll have you know, I have no problem with insulting Mal J'hat and the high council. At this point, I would gladly do that without benefit of a trial."

The remark elicited a smirk from T'pat, which he quickly suppressed. The guard gently nudged Smith in an attempt to remind him that such comments wouldn't help his case any.

Exasperated, the defense counsel tried to reason with Smith, but the doctor would have none of it. He stood his ground and maintained his innocence. Finally, the counsel threw up his hands, announced his intentions to enter a plea of guilty with extenuating circumstances, and left abruptly.

"Well, that went well," T'pat said sarcastically.

"It's not my fault your judicial system is so archaic," Smith defended.

"I wasn't faulting you, doctor," T'pat apologized. "The situation is unacceptable."

"Before we get into the intricacies of the Asmani judicial system, why don't you tell us in your own words what happened between you and Mal J'hat," M'jek suggested.

Smith, despite his reluctance, revisited his confrontation with Mal J'hat and the guards. As he finished, both M'jek and T'pat reached the same conclusions.

"I suspect someone told him about you," T'pat growled. "Probably one of the guards trying to curry favor. And in response, Mal J'hat created a situation in which there would be no successful outcome for you. He wants to get rid of you."

Though the doctor was already well aware of that fact, hearing the words sent a chill down his spine.

"T'pat, see if you can discover who it was... discreetly. We must steer clear of this individual. In the meantime, I will talk to my contacts on the high council to gauge their mood and whether or not they will consider leniency," M'jek stated.

M'jek put a hand on Smith's shoulder. "We will do what we can for you, doctor."

Smith nodded. "I appreciate it, gentlemen."

Smith watched as they left and realized his only hope rested with them.


	11. Trial & Tribulation

The two days before the trial went slowly for Smith. He had gone from the extreme of working long hours providing medical services to long hours of having absolutely nothing to occupy his time. He spent time working on the problem of the forcefield. He spent time pacing. He spent time sleeping. He spent time worrying. The only thing that lifted his spirits was spending time with the Robinsons, Major West, or other prisoners who came to visit.

When guards finally came to take him to the trial, he stood and worked the kinks out of his delicate back.

"Do you think I could at least get a proper bed in here? Maybe a blanket?" Smith asked as the forcefield was lowered.

The guards just shook their heads, grabbed his arms, and escorted him to the courtroom. A few guards chained the Robinsons together and escorted them as well. Mal J'hat knew they had been working with the doctor and wanted them to know what may be in store for them, should they continue what Smith had started.

The Robinsons and Major West were directed to sit behind the defendant. Their chains were secured to the seats and they were flanked on either side by guards. An Asmani guard, who must've been the equivalent of a bailiff, announced the arrival of the high council and directed everyone to stand. The high council took their seats and at the direction of the bailiff, everyone else in the courtroom took theirs. The Grand Master gaveled court into session.

"The high council will hear the case against Doctor Smith, accused of attempted murder of our great leader, Mal J'hat," the Grand Master of the high council announced. "How does the defendant plead?"

"Guilty... with extenuating circumstances, your honor," the defense counsel said.

"Excuse me," Smith stood and addressed the council. "I wish to plead 'not guilty'."

A murmur rose up in the court room and the Grand Master quickly gaveled for order. The Grand Master addressed the defense counsel. "Did you not explain to the defendant that, under the circumstances, such a plea would be an insult to the court, counsel?"

"I did, your honor," the defense counsel glared at Smith.

The Grand Master addressed the doctor. "You dare to insult the high council? You do realize attempted murder against our leader carries the maximum penalty of death in our society and the high council is to issue the ruling in this matter, do you not?"

"Yes, your honor. I mean, no, your honor. I mean, your honor, I do not mean to insult the high council. I did not attempt to murder Mal J'hat. I simply attempted to defend myself and young Will Robinson from attack. Therefore, I wish to plead 'not guilty' to the charge of attempted murder," Smith explained.

"Are you accusing Mal J'hat of a crime?" the Grand Master asked.

"Yes, your honor. Uh... I mean, no, your honor. I mean... what was the question?" Smith groveled.

"Enough of this nonsense," the Grand Master commanded. "Clerk, enter the plea as 'guilty with extenuating circumstances' as directed by the defense counsel." The Grand Master pointed the gavel at Smith, "You, sir, would do well to listen to your counsel for the remainder of this trial."

Smith cringed at the rebuke and shrank back into his chair.

"Not the most auspicious of starts," West whispered.

"Shut up, Major," Smith whispered back.

The prosecutor, smug smile plastered in place, began his opening statement at the request of the high council.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the high council, the defendant, Dr. Zachary Smith, attempted to murder our leader, Mal J'hat."

Smith nudged the defense counsel. "Aren't you going to object?"

The defense counsel just shook his head.

"Then I will," Smith said. "I object, your honor!" he cried.

"What do you object to?" one of the high council members asked.

"Your entire stinkin' species," came West's whispered reply behind him.

Smith tried desperately to suppress a laugh, which resulted in a soft snort. He turned slightly and whispered, "Major, please."

"I object to the prosecution stating as fact that I am guilty of the charges when no evidence or testimony has yet been presented," Smith argued.

"You may do things differently where you come from, doctor, but here, we do not allow objections during opening statements," the Grand Master declared.

"But what if..."

"We  _do not_  allow objections during opening statements," the Grand Master repeated.

"Not even when..."

"Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up and sit down," the Grand Master commanded.

Smith's brow furrowed as he sat down and crossed his arms. He clenched his jaw to keep from saying something else he'd regret.

The prosecutor continued, "The evidence will clearly demonstrate the doctor's guilt and the witnesses will testify to the fact that they saw him squeezing the life out of Mal J'hat." The prosecutor punctuated his point by slowly squeezing his hand closed in mid air.

"Now, the defendant will try to convince you that he was in mortal danger, but what motive would Mal J'hat have to harm a human he did not even know?" the prosecutor swept his arm towards Smith.

Smith shifted uncomfortably in his seat as all eyes in the courtroom turned toward him.

"It was only the timely arrival of four of the witnesses that saved Mal J'hat from certain death. Otherwise, Doctor Smith would be on trial for murder," the prosecutor stated.

The prosecutor spent the next several minutes concluding his opening statement. The Robinsons, West, and especially Smith had been worked up by the blatant lies that had been spewed before the court. It took every ounce of will they possessed to keep from raucously taking exception to the prosecutor's statements.

The Grand Master signaled it was the defense's turn to provide their opening statement. Smith hoped his counsel would masterfully refute what the prosecutor had just alleged, but he sincerely doubted that would happen. He began to wonder how long the life expectancy was of any defense counsel that argued against Mal J'hat. He came to the conclusion that it would probably be only slightly longer than his own.

The defense counsel stood, cleared his throat, and began his opening statement. "Distinguished high council, Grand Master, ladies and gentlemen, you will hear testimony in this case from 5 witnesses, all but one of whom arrived after the altercation had started. That one witness will be able to corroborate Doctor Smith's contention that he felt his life was in danger." The defense counsel quickly glanced over at Mal J'hat and his voice began to quaver as he backpedaled. "That is not to say that his life  _was_  in danger. We are not suggesting at all that Mal J'hat had any malice or criminal intent toward the doctor at all. We all know that our great leader, Mal J'hat, is an imposing figure and would strike fear in anyone."

Smith rolled his eyes and turned to face his companions behind him. "I'm doomed..." he lamented softly.

Mrs. Robinson set a reassuring hand on his arm. Will whispered to him, "Don't think like that, Doctor Smith."

Smith turned back to watch the defense counsel finish up his opening statement, none of which impressed him, the Robinsons, or Major West. Smith glared at the man as he came back to his seat. The counsel smiled weakly and shrugged his shoulders in a timid apology.

The opening statements over, the prosecution began its case by calling each of the four guards as witnesses. Every guard told the same story, implicating Doctor Smith as the cold and calculating would-be murderer of their leader. To anyone who knew the doctor, it was obvious the testimony was rehearsed and well coordinated. To everyone else, it was, unfortunately, compelling.

The defense counsel's attempt at cross examination was weak at best. He barely scrutinized their statements and they each stuck to their story. The man looked frequently toward Mal J'hat and several times seemed to visibly tremble. Smith thought to himself that the ineptness and timidity of his counsel would almost be comical if his life wasn't on the line. Then he trembled himself when he thought of the sentence that would most likely be handed down.

Next, at Mal J'hat's direction, the prosecution called Will Robinson to the stand. The alien leader figured to devastate the doctor's defense by using young Will's testimony against him. The boy had been in the room at the same time and Mal J'hat figured he could be intimidated by the prosecution into making a mistake to the doctor's detriment.

The Professor tried to voice an objection to his son being forced to participate in this travesty, but a guard suppressed it with a quick punch to his gut. Another guard released Will from his manacles and escorted him to the witness stand. The prosecutor spent a few moments staring down the young human. Will looked uncomfortable, but determined.

"You were in Mal J'hat's quarters on the night in question, were you not?" the prosecutor began.

"Yes, sir," Will answered.

"Then, surely you saw what happened then," the prosecutor concluded with a grin. "Tell us what you saw."

"Nothing, sir."

The prosecutor's grin quickly turned to a frown. "What do you mean 'nothing'? Didn't you see Doctor Smith strangling Mal J'hat?"

"No, sir. You see, Mal J'hat had told me to close my eyes because he was going to kill me," Will said with a small shiver, as he relived the moment. "I guess he didn't want to look me in the eye when he did it."

A murmur rose in the courtroom at the revelation and the Grand Master called for order for the second time that session.

"Boy, lying is not tolerated in this court. You do realize the seriousness of the accusation you just made, don't you?" the prosecutor asked.

"Yes, sir," Will responded.

"Do you wish to amend your statement then?" the prosecutor prodded.

"No.."

"William!" Smith cried. He slowly nodded, hoping the boy would realize the trouble he was in if he didn't change his story.

The Grand Master warned Smith about his outburst and then prompted Will to answer the prosecutor.

"Umm, yes," Will said. "I, uhh, had my eyes closed because I... was afraid."

"What were you afraid of?"

Will looked to Smith and his family, his mind racing to find an answer that wouldn't get him deeper into trouble.

"I'm just a kid," he answered. "There were all sorts of scary weapons hanging on the wall. And... umm, these big guards brought me in there to see your leader. That was pretty... intimidating." Will stopped, hoping that was sufficient.

"I see," the prosecutor said, stroking his chin. He appeared as if he was going to say something else, but suddenly thought better of it. He simply stated that he had no further questions.

The defense counsel stated that he had no questions for the boy. Will eagerly hopped off the stand and rushed back to his family.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Smith," he apologized. "I didn't help you up there."

"It's ok, my boy," Smith reassured him. "There was nothing you could do. I appreciate your effort."

Somehow, Smith's words didn't make Will feel any better. He was visibly upset, especially because he knew the doctor wasn't receiving a fair trial.

Next, the prosecution called M'jek to the stand and had Mal J'hat approach the stand as well. He asked the doctor to examine the marks around Mal J'hat's throat. The doctor concluded, as much as he hated to, that the marks were indeed caused by a prisoner's manacles, but he stopped short of saying the prisoner was Smith. The prosecutor didn't seem to care, as he had the testimony he wanted.

The defense counsel again declined to question the witness. M'jek was released from the stand. As he passed Smith on his way back to the gallery, he cast a worried glance at the doctor. He already knew the deck was stacked against the human and the outcome was almost a foregone conclusion. The look Smith gave him revealed he knew the same.

After making a few more statements regarding the testimony just given, the prosecution rested. The defense counsel stood, announced he had no more evidence or witnesses to present, and stated that the defense rested as well.

Smith knew there was nothing more his counsel would do for him, though he could think of plenty other arguments to be made. None of them would be powerful enough to refute what had already been presented and he doubted at this point that anyone would believe them. He honestly never thought the trial would be this short, but it somehow didn't surprise him. Railroading didn't take much time if you had all your ducks in a row, including threatening the defense counsel. With the trial all but over, his thoughts turned to his fate and he began to tremble.

The Robinsons and Major West made their opinions known to the defense counsel as he sat down in front of them. Having kept quiet through the trial thus far, they could stay silent no longer and vehemently protested the defense counsel's tactics, or lack thereof. The defense counsel didn't dare look at them. He looked, instead, at Mal J'hat, who nodded slightly. He slowly exhaled in relief, secure in the thought that his performance was satisfying to the temperamental tyrant. Smith turned and looked at his companions and their anger began to fuel his own.

The Grand Master signaled that the defense counsel could proceed with his closing statement. As the defense counsel stood, Smith reached up to put a hand on his shoulder and angrily pushed him back down into his seat. Assuming all was lost, Smith pushed an index finger firmly into the man's chest. "Since my life is most likely already forfeit, thanks in part to you, and things couldn't possibly be any worse, I might as well speak my mind while I have the chance."

The defense counsel tried to stop Smith, but the doctor shrugged the man's hands off of him and strode purposefully toward the bench with a full head of steam. He was certain he had nothing left to lose. He was also certain it wouldn't make a difference what he said. He could either speak now in a last ditch effort or he could accept the inevitable without a fight. Smith chose not to go silently.

"What are you doing?" the Grand Master demanded.

"I will be giving the closing statement for the defense," Smith stated. "As well as a piece of my mind."

"This is highly unorthodox," the Grand Master complained.

"It's no more unorthodox than this travesty you call a trial, your honor," Smith replied.

"I'm warning you, doctor, you are bordering on contempt," the Grand Master admonished.

"Oh, I have nothing  _but_  contempt for this court," Smith stated. Before the members of the high council could voice their protests, Smith continued. "I thought that with the high council presiding, I might have the chance at a fair trial. It's become painfully clear, however, that you are all just puppets for Mal J'hat. He has driven this whole farce simply for the sole purpose of... eliminating me."

West nudged the Professor with his elbow and whispered, "Smith does righteous indignation rather well."

"Yes, especially when he actually has something to be righteously indignant about," came the reply.

Mal J'hat stood and angrily ordered guards to take Smith away. Smith looked around desperately for the best escape route. The Grand Master gaveled loudly, countermanded Mal J'hat's instructions, and demanded order in the court. He then pointed the gavel at Mal J'hat and told him to sit down and stay quiet.

The Grand Master addressed Smith, "Doctor, are you accusing Mal J'hat of a crime?"

"Yes, your honor, I am," Smith put a hand up to forestall the question he saw coming. "And yes, I am fully aware of the seriousness of the charges. They are no more serious than the charges Mal J'hat wishes you to believe I am guilty of."

The Grand Master studied Smith for a moment and then stated, "I don't appreciate your tone, doctor, but please continue. We will hear what you have to say."

With the Grand Master's pronouncement, Smith's stance softened a little and he continued. "Your honor, I somehow attracted the ire of Mal J'hat by providing medical services to the prisoners, including Will Robinson," Smith motioned towards his young friend. "When he discovered what I had done, he had guards bring me to his quarters to discuss the matter, or so I thought. His true intent, however, was to goad me into a physical confrontation, since he could not touch me legally and he knew if any harm came to me it would likely result in an investigation. He threatened to kill William and myself..."

"Objection!" the prosecutor cried. "He's engaging in speculation."

"Overruled," the Grand Master replied. "I will allow the doctor to continue."

"Is it mere speculation to expect Mal J'hat had intent to kill William with the blade he held over the boy's head?" Smith bellowed. "Or that he'd follow through with his threat to kill me next? You've personally seen my defense counsel quaking in his boots and shriveling under the watchful eye of his 'great' leader. I could  _speculate_  he's been threatened, but I'm damn sure he has been."

West leaned over to the Professor and whispered, "I wish Smith had these kind of guts more often."

The Professor replied, "If he did, you'd be in big trouble, Don."

The Major's eyebrows rose in surprise. He thought for a second and answered, "Forget I said anything."

"I was put in an impossible situation. I chose to stop Mal J'hat and save my friend," Smith turned and regarded Will. Will smiled at the doctor, who returned the smile.

The prosecutor jumped on the doctor's statement, "Then you admit you attacked Mal J'hat."

Smith sighed. "Yes, I had no choice."

The courtroom buzzed with excited whispers.

"You tried to kill him," the prosecutor asserted.

"No!" Smith denied.

"The guards had to pull you off of his unconscious body," the prosecutor stated.

Smith turned to the Grand Master. "Is this allowed during the defense's closing statement?"

The Grand Master shrugged, "I'm not sure any of this is allowed, doctor. As I told you, it's all unorthodox. Do you have anything further to say?"

"Will it do me any good?" Smith questioned.

The high council murmured their answers to the Grand Master and he relayed them to the courtroom. "Not really."

"Then I am done," Smith replied. He turned and walked back to his seat. "And hopefully not  _done for_ ," he muttered to himself.

The Robinsons and Major West patted Smith on the back and offered encouraging words as he took his seat. Smith smiled weakly and tried to keep from hyperventilating.

The prosecutor immediately began his closing statement without waiting for acknowledgment from the Grand Master. He summarized the witness testimony and evidence presented. He also reminded the court that Smith had admitted he had attacked Mal J'hat and the guards had to pull him off the unconscious body of their leader. The prosecutor's last statements seemed to have the impact he wanted and he took his seat with a broad smile on his face.

As soon as the prosecutor was done, the Grand Master announced that the high council would deliberate. Guards secured Smith's hands behind his back, took him by the arms, and escorted him out of the courtroom. Other guards unlocked the Robinsons and Major West from their seats, chained them together, and escorted them back to the stockade.

When the Robinsons and Major West arrived back at their camp, they instinctively looked to Smith's cell, only to notice he was not in it. Since he had left the courtroom first, it was cause for alarm. Immediately, the Major and the Professor started asking around the stockade to see if anyone knew what had happened to the doctor. Nobody seemed to know, which only bothered them more.

It didn't take long for Smith to realize the guards weren't taking him back to the stockade.

"Where are you taking me?" he demanded.

"To see Mal J'hat. He wishes to speak with you," one of the guards grinned.

Panic seized Smith. He struggled to free himself from the grasp of his captors and they fought to keep ahold of him. Just when the doctor had thrown one of the guards off, the other rammed a fist into his gut, sending him to his knees. While Smith was still trying to catch his breath, the two guards hauled him up and marched him on to their intended destination.

They requested permission to enter Mal J'hat's quarters and were quickly granted access. The guards shoved Smith ahead of themselves toward their waiting leader. Smith tried to back up as Mal J'hat strode towards him, but was blocked by the guards behind him.

Mal J'hat's hand shot out to grasp Smith's neck. The doctor fought the fear welling up inside him and managed to gasp out, "If anything happens to me, they will know you did it! They will know I told the truth in court! You will have two crimes to answer for."

"Oh, you're safe, doctor... for now," Mal J'hat growled. "I just wanted to let you know how displeased I was with what you said today in court." He squeezed tighter, enjoying the look of fear on the doctor's face. "Nobody contradicts me without consequence."

Just as the edges of Smith's vision began to dim and his legs began to fail him, Mal J'hat released his grasp. Smith fell to the floor, gasping for air. The alien leader kicked him for good measure.

Mal J'hat kneeled over the doctor. "You will be convicted, Smith. I have already seen to it. Asmani law gives the victim the right to name punishment for the convicted. I assure you, your end will be most painful."

The doctor swallowed hard, his worst fears confirmed. Fear mingled with red, hot hatred as he knew he would only be the first to go. He was sure the Major and the Professor would soon follow due to the physical threat they imposed. Mrs. Robinson and Judy would likely be next. The children, Will and Penny, would be last. How cruel for them to have to endure the loss of all the others.

"But, I am a sporting man," Mal J'hat continued. "I will give you the chance to have your life spared. That is, if you have the courage to fight for it. I will let you think about it, Smith. When the time is right, you will be summoned to the arena and we will see what you are made of."

Mal J'hat kicked the doctor again and Smith responded by shoving his booted foot into the knee of the chief. Mal J'hat howled in pain and collapsed to the ground. Smith tried to kick again, but was interrupted by a sharp blow to the head, delivered by one of the guards. Smith lay on his side, dazed and bleeding, while the guards attended to their leader.

The Robinsons and West were relieved to see guards finally bringing Smith back to his cell, until they saw what shape he was in. It was obvious he had been roughed up, most likely by those loyal to Mal J'hat. It irritated Major West the most. To beat on a defenseless man was cowardly in his book. To beat on a defenseless coward was even worse.

The guards replaced the cuffs binding Smith's hands behind his back with the usual manacles, securing his hands in front. Each guard took a parting shot before they shoved the doctor into his cell. Smith landed heavily on the cell floor. The Professor and the Major rushed the guards, but we're stopped by a drawn laser pistol. After calling in to have the force field activated, the guards left cautiously, keeping an eye and a pistol trained on the angry humans as they walked away.

"Doctor Smith!" Will ran over to the cell. He was greeted with a small groan of pain.

Mrs. Robinson and the others stood behind Will, anxiously awaiting a sign from the doctor that he was alright.

"Doctor Smith?" Will tried again.

The doctor groaned again as he propped himself up on one elbow. He brought a hand to his head in a vain attempt to make the pounding stop. As if he had just become aware of their presence, he looked up at the concerned faces of his companions.

"You look like hell, Smith. What did they do to you?" West asked.

"It's pretty obvious, Major, that they used me as a punching bag," Smith grumbled.

"They can't get away with that!" Will cried.

"They can and they just did, my boy," Smith replied. With some difficulty, he pushed himself up into a sitting position and winced in renewed pain. He pressed an arm tightly against his ribs as he debated whether or not to tell them what was discussed in Mal J'hat's quarters. He ultimately decided it would do no good. Besides, he really didn't want to discuss it anyway.

Mrs. Robinson turned to her husband. "John, I'm going to see if I can get M'jek here to treat him, perhaps give him something for the pain."

"It would do no good, madame," Smith replied. "He cannot treat prisoners."

"Well, he could at least have the forcefield lowered so I could treat you, couldn't he?" she countered.

"It's worth a shot," West added.

Smith gave his consent with a nod.

M'jek came quickly with T'pat in tow. Both were more than irritated to see what shape Smith was in. T'pat requested the forcefield be lowered and they wasted no time once it was down. Mrs. Robinson brought Smith some painkillers, which he quickly downed with a glass of water. She cleaned and bandaged the wound on his temple and assessed his ribs, which were painful, but only bruised. Smith thanked her for her kind attention before she left.

Major West, meanwhile, had taken the mattress from one of the beds and placed it in the cell. Will and Penny followed behind with pillows and blankets.

"Bless you," Smith thanked. He had spent every night in that cell sleeping on the cold, hard ground, curled up as close to the forcefield as he dared since it was the only source of heat. The small comforts they had just provided him were sorely appreciated.

Major West and Judy helped Smith get situated comfortably on the bed where he waited patiently for the narcotics to relieve the pain and hopefully allow him some much needed sleep.

T'pat reluctantly called to have the forcefield reactivated. He and M'jek left quickly after the humans offered them heartfelt thanks.

As West watched Smith lying there, he worked his frustration up into full blown anger. "I just wish I could get my hands on Mal J'hat," he steamed. "I'd wring his neck myself."

"That makes two of us," the Professor added.

The others chimed in.

"Three."

"Four."

"Five."

"Six. It's unanimous."

Smith had heard the conversation and managed a small smile before he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.


	12. A Verdict Is Reached

As M'jek and T'pat left, they were anxious to discuss the recent events, but waited until they arrived at the security of the doctor's quarters.

"This doesn't bode well, M'jek," T'pat stated. "What do your contacts on the council say?"

M'jek dropped into the chair behind his desk with an audible groan. "One will not speak to me for fear of reprisals. I suspect Mal J'hat has gotten to him, either through bribery or intimidation. My other contact... suspects the same. There will be no leniency."

"Should we tell Smith?" T'pat asked.

"Judging by the condition we found him in, T'pat, I'm fairly certain he already knows."

"So, that's it then. We are done." T'pat lamented.

"I'm still not giving up on the doctor, T'pat," M'jek stated. "Not yet."

"I don't see what options we have left, M'jek."

"I will find a way," M'jek vowed. "I must."

...

The guards returned to Mal J'hat's quarters as ordered. They reported the incident with the humans, which seemed to amuse their leader.

"Mal J'hat, may I ask you a question?" one of the guards asked.

Mal J'hat nodded his approval.

"Why did you offer the human the chance to fight for his life?"

"It's simple. As victim, I have the right to select punishment, but I cannot participate in the exercise of it. I want the pleasure of disposing of the human doctor myself," the leader explained. "And maybe a few other humans in the process."

"But what if he should best you and win his life?" the guard asked. From the look on Mal J'hat's face, he knew he should have kept his mouth shut. "Forgive me, great leader. You are so humble that I forgot what great physical prowess you possess. It is no question that you will prevail."

His anger appeased, Mal J'hat uncharacteristically forgave the guard's indiscretion. "Do you think I would offer him the chance if I hadn't made certain he would lose?"

"No, your greatness. You are always thinking ahead. That is what makes you a great leader," the guard groveled.

"Yes," Mal J'hat agreed. "Yes, it is."

...

The Grand Master watched quietly as the other members of the high council debated the doctor's fate. It disturbed him to think that the once august body had been tarnished by bribery, intimidation, and deceit. With Mal J'hat in charge, there was little that could be done about it. His friend M'jek was right. The only way things would improve, the only way they could redeem their once great culture, would be removal of Mal J'hat. He almost dared not think the thought, lest Mal J'hat somehow find out.

It was clear to the Grand Master that he and the few others who held sympathy for the doctor were outnumbered. Despite a valiant effort on their part, they simply could not make a convincing case for innocence. The doctor had admitted the attack himself. Against any other Asmani citizen, there was room for maneuvering. Against their leader, the letter of the law had to be obeyed.

With a heavy heart, the Grand Master called for a vote and tallied the responses. Although he was not surprised, he was dismayed by the outcome. He announced that a verdict had been reached and ordered the council to convene the following day.

...

Smith was up early the next morning. He hadn't slept much once the pain killers had started to wear off. His stomach growled at him, but he left his food rations untouched. He simply paced back and forth, stopping every now and then to stare out at something distant in the cavernous room.

"I wish he'd stop that," West said, looking over his shoulder in the direction Smith stared. "He's making me nervous."

"Don, you'd probably be doing the same thing if you were in his shoes," Judy replied. "Walking off your nervous energy..."

Major West frowned at the suggestion that he and Smith would have anything in common, but he knew Judy was right.

"...and probably trying to put your fist through a wall in frustration," she added.

West smiled. She knew him well. "I think that's the one thing Smith hasn't tried yet."

"That's because, unlike you, Major, I have the intelligence to know the wall would win," Smith called from behind the forcefield. He was close enough he had heard the conversation and stopped his pacing at the point nearest the couple. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, shoulders slightly slumped, his characteristic ramrod straight posture clearly affected by his painful ribs.

West opened his mouth to reply, but couldn't think of a sufficient comeback. Instead, he stood and went over to the doctor. Instinctively, Smith shrank back out of habit, even though he was aware the Major couldn't reach him through the forcefield.

The Major smiled when he saw the doctor move. "Relax, Smith, I'm just coming over to talk."

"Relax? At a time like this? I'm sure Mal J'hat is currently planning on making me into a giant shish kebob," Smith groaned.

West began to laugh.

"Major! I know we haven't always seen eye to eye, but I would hope you'd have some human decency and not laugh over my impending demise."

West suppressed his laughter. "Sorry, I was just thinking..."

"What?"

"Smith kebab," a fresh fit of chuckling enveloped the Major.

"That is NOT funny, Major!" Smith barked.

"Sorry. I'm sorry, Smith. This is serious. I shouldn't be laughing," West suppressed another chuckle.

West looked into Smith's eyes and what he saw there sobered him. "Look, I'm sorry. You know, there's still a chance, albeit a slim one, that you'll get off the hook. If there's anyone I know that's an expert at getting off the hook, it's you."

Smith sighed. "I appreciate your feeble attempt at consolation, Major, but..." his voice trailed off as his gaze fixed at something over the Major's shoulder.

West turned to see what the doctor was looking at. A dozen guards marched purposefully towards Smith's cell. He looked back at Smith.

"Looks like they've reached a verdict, Major," Smith stated, his brow furrowed, gaze still fixed at the approaching guards.

West turned to face them and stood protectively in front of the doctor, as if he could somehow prevent them from taking him. They simply shoved him aside when the forcefield was lowered and grabbed the doctor. Smith offered no resistance, having long since learned nothing good could be gained by it. Unlike during the trial, the presence of the Robinsons was not requested.

Smith soon found himself back in the courtroom, the high council already seated and ready. Two guards brought the doctor to stand before the bench.

"Doctor Smith, the high council has reached a verdict in your case," the Grand Master announced.

Smith swallowed hard, prepared for the worst.

The Grand Master looked down at the console in front of him, if only to avoid having to look the human in the face. "It is the judgment of the high council that you are guilty of the charge of attempted murder."

Mal J'hat, who sat with his entourage in a corner of the courtroom, smiled at the result. Smith's heart pounded heavily in his chest and he started to feel lightheaded.

The Grand Master then announced, "As is Asmani custom, your punishment will be chosen by your victim. He may choose from the minimum of 5 years at hard labor to the maximum penalty... death. Or, should he so choose, he can offer clemency." The Grand Master turned to look at Mal J'hat, as did the rest of the court room. "What say you, Mal J'hat?"

Mal J'hat wasted no breath. "Death!"

The Grand Master glanced at Smith with a look of great pity. "So it has been decided. Doctor Smith, by order of the high council, you will be put to death one week from today." He pounded his gavel and ended the proceedings. He left quickly, ashamed of what had just transpired.

Smith's legs gave out and he promptly ended up on the floor. He sat there and gulped breaths of air, attempting to keep from passing out altogether. A short distance away, he heard familiar laughter. He turned to see it was Mal J'hat, obviously pleased with the doctor's reaction.

Smith wouldn't be able to explain later what happened or why. He simply snapped. He sprang from the ground and ran at Mal J'hat, his intent to honestly earn his death sentence. It took four guards to stop the adrenalin fueled doctor and drag him back. He hadn't been able to lay a hand on the alien leader, but it did cause him to scramble fearfully out of the doctor's reach. Mal J'hat was no longer laughing.

Once they left the courtroom and Mal J'hat's presence, Smith calmed down and offered no resistance as they escorted him back to his cell. He went straight to the back, into the darkest corner, and sat quietly. No attempts by the Robinsons or Major West to coax him forward or to talk were fruitful. It was clear to them by his behavior that the very thing they feared the most had occurred in that courtroom. They all sat quietly, unsure of what to do or say next.

...

The Robot had been stationed near the Chariot, monitoring and deciphering all radio traffic he could intercept from in and around the base. He was aware of the doctor's trial and the incident that preceded it, though he doubted any of it was true. When radio traffic confirming Smith's conviction and death sentence hit the Robot's receiver, he double checked the message. Then triple checked it. He simply refused to believe Doctor Smith was capable of the crime he was charged with. There had to be a mistake. It did not compute.

It was clear to the Robot that whatever the circumstances, Smith had failed. He wasn't surprised, but he was disappointed. He had sincerely hoped the doctor would succeed. The Robot realized he was the last hope for his family. He was determined to rescue them and return them to the Jupiter 2. He was about to charge towards the main gate when he remembered what Smith had once said.  _We need to learn everything we can about our new foe._ The Robot found the best vantage point. There he spent the rest of the evening scanning the base and pouring over his memory banks to generate schedules of the guard movements and other important daily events on the base that might come in handy.

The following morning, the Robot circumnavigated the base. When he reached the angle at which he wanted to approach, he barreled toward the base at full speed, hoping to avoid blasts from the laser turrets. The automatic turrets laid down a series of bursts that narrowly missed the speeding Robot. By the time they had adjusted their aim to compensate for his speed, he had reached a zone of safety, an angle at which the turrets couldn't aim.

The Robot headed towards a heavy metal door that was flush with the enormous wall. There were no handles, so the Robot surmised it was opened by electrical or mechanical means. He charged his defenses and pulsed an electric shock against the seam between the door and the wall. Much to his surprise, the tactic worked and the door opened. He rolled through the opening into the base and swiveled back and forth, his sensors quickly checking for any guards in the vicinity. Finding none, he continued through the maze of corridors. He sat quietly for a moment, his sensors studying the complex.

Meanwhile, guards in several sectors had been automatically and silently alerted to his unauthorized entry. It didn't take long for his location to be pinpointed and guards dispatched to intercept him. The Robot's sensors quickly picked up the approaching guards and he attempted to flee, only to find himself surrounded. He charged his defenses, electricity arcing between his claws. He let loose a few bolts to move the guards back. It was then that they opened fire. The laser blasts that hit metal merely deflected off him, but one hit tore into his chest plates, causing smoke to billow forth. Another blast loosened his power pack rendering him helpless and he slumped over with an audible "uuugghhh".

T'pat rounded the corner to help his fellow guards with the intruder only to see what he knew to be the human's Robot in a smoking heap. He saw the other guards pushing the wrecked hulk in the direction of the chief engineer's quarters. He turned and made his way to the stockade, sure that the humans would want to be aware of this development.

Smith had spent the entire night and most of the morning in the dark corner of his cell, not in any mood for company. He rose, however, when he saw T'pat running towards the Robinson camp. He quickly made his way to the front of his cell when T'pat called for him.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Smith asked.

"Your Robot," T'pat answered, breathing heavily. "He broke into the base. The guards disabled him and took him to the chief engineer's quarters."

"You have to get him out of there!" Smith barked. He panicked as he realized the Robinson's last hope and their last remaining "family member" had just been captured. They'd have even less compunction about tearing him to pieces since he was  _just_  a mechanical man.

"How?" T'pat asked.

"Tell them..." Smith's mind raced searching for a solution. "Tell them... he's just a medical drone. There's nothing in his databanks but human medical knowledge. Tell them M'jek has requested him to study."

T'pat nodded. "That might work. I'll do it." And just as quickly as he had arrived, the guard was gone again.

"That damn ninny," Smith muttered. "Heroic hunk of hardware... why'd he have to try this now?" Then it occurred to Smith, the Robot had probably been monitoring communications in the base. If he had, then he knew about his trial and sentence and he knew he had to act soon if he was to save  _all_  of them. The revelation that the Robot had risked destruction to prevent his execution touched the doctor. The thought of the Robot being dissected and studied bothered him more than he'd ever admit. He went back to his dark corner, even more demoralized than before, if that were possible.

T'pat quickly made his way to the chief engineer's quarters. Once permitted to enter, he saw the engineer studying the exterior of the Robot, who was still mostly in one piece. T'pat told the engineer that the Robot was the missing medical drone listed on the Jupiter 2's crew manifest.

"M'jek would like to study the machine, to see if there's anything in its databases of any interest that we can add to our own medical knowledge," T'pat explained.

The engineer stroked his chin and thought for a moment. He nodded. "That would be acceptable. I simply have too much to do right now to spend time on this outdated piece of junk."

T'pat grabbed the few pieces of Robot sitting on the engineer's desk. He wasted no time wheeling the machine out of the engineer's quarters and toward M'jek's. M'jek was quite surprised when the guard showed up on his doorstep with the mechanical man, but once the situation was explained to him, he helped T'pat store the Robot in a back room normally reserved for medical supplies.

"So, how do we activate him?" M'jek asked.

"Oh, I think with this," T'pat placed the power pack into its slot. A few panels lit up, but it was obvious the Robot was too severely damaged to interface with. With a sigh, T'pat removed the pack. "I don't think he's in any sort of working order at the moment."

"Well, at least you can tell the humans their Robot is safe for the time being," M'jek replied. "Not that it'll be much consolation..."

T'pat returned to the Robinson camp to give them the news.

"Doctor, it worked!" T'pat called out.

Smith once again left his dark corner and came to the front of his cell to converse with the guard. "Then M'jek has possession of the Robot?"

"Yes," T'pat replied.

The Robinsons, especially Will, all felt a bit of relief at the news. Before he left, they all thanked T'pat for his willingness to help and told him to give their thanks to M'jek as well.

"Doctor Smith?" Will called out as the doctor headed toward the back of his cell.

Smith turned. "Yes, William?"

"I don't understand something," Will began.

Smith walked over to the forcefield. "What's that?"

"Why did the Robot choose now to attempt a rescue? We've been here all this time already."

"I asked myself the same thing, my boy," Smith replied. "It was only when I realized he'd been monitoring Asmani communications that I came up with the answer." He gave the boy a hint, knowing full well he'd find the answer himself.

After a few seconds of thought, a look of understanding dawned on the boy's face. "He knew your life was in danger."

"They convicted me yesterday," he admitted. "I am to be executed in six days. That bubble-headed booby must've heard and decided to attempt a rescue."

While the Robinsons and West had already surmised the verdict, hearing the doctor announce it had much more of an emotional impact.

"John?" The tone of the Major's voice conveyed all his concerns.

The Professor knew the Major wanted to revisit their earlier conversation about Smith. He shook his head. "Not now."

"Executed?" Will asked, his voice shaky. Will sat down and the doctor followed suit.

Smith nodded. He spared a glance at Will and saw fear in his eyes. Normally, at a time like this, Smith would be concerned only about himself, but oddly found that he was concerned for the boy. The two had forged an unlikely bond over the years. He knew the pain he'd endure would be short lived, and he was afraid of facing that, but the boy's pain of loss would last longer. He desperately wanted to spare the boy that as much as he wanted his own life spared.

The two sat in silence for a few moments as neither wanted to discuss what the future would bring. Will broke the silence with a memory of good times on Priplanus and Smith welcomed the diversion. The two reminisced about their adventures together and as they talked, Penny, Judy, and the others gathered around and added their own special memories to the conversation.

After a while, Smith became quiet and simply watched his companions as they shared their memories. He studied and memorized their smiling faces, unsure if they'd ever share a moment like this again.


	13. Best Laid Plans

In the time that they had been there, only once had any of the humans been assigned tasks and that was the work on the palace M'jek had rescued them from. That morning, several guards came for the Robinson women, refusing to reveal their purpose. They could only assume they'd be put to work. Still, the Professor, the Major, and even Will put up as much of a fight as they were able, trying to prevent the guards from taking them, as Smith watched helplessly from behind the forcefield imprisoning him. Ultimately, as was always the case, the guards won and escorted the women away.

Penny, Judy, and Mrs. Robinson clung to each other nervously as they traveled through the halls of the complex. Smith had traveled these halls extensively and the Major and Professor had been through them once, but this was the first time the women had been out of the stockade.

The guards brought them to Mal J'hat's quarters. When the women entered, the leader rose and strode towards them. With a salacious, toothy smile, he looked the women over. They felt extremely uncomfortable under his reptilian gaze. Mrs. Robinson stood protectively between the alien chief and her children, which only brought the brunt of scrutiny on herself. Mal J'hat placed a single index finger below Mrs. Robinson's chin and forced her face up, to look him in the eye.

Mal J'hat tried to walk around the women to get a full view of them, but they all turned as he did, afraid to take their eyes off him for a second. He attempted to caress Penny's face, but she batted his hand away. He simply laughed. Without warning, he grabbed Judy and pulled her against his body. Judy struggled against his grasp and when she managed to put some distance between them, Mrs. Robinson broke the leader's hold on her daughter. He stumbled backward a step, but came at Judy again, his smile wider than ever. Mrs. Robinson stepped in front of her daughter and when Mal J'hat attempted to grab her, she shoved hard, sending him to the ground.

Mal J'hat scrambled to get to his feet, completely embarrassed at having been felled by a female. He grabbed Mrs. Robinson, intent on teaching her a lesson, but she again shoved hard, making him stumble back a few steps.

"Leave us alone!" she yelled.

The leader backhanded Mrs. Robinson across the face and she crumpled to the floor. Penny and Judy immediately dropped to her side to help her.

Mal J'hat called for guards on his communications device. When they arrived, he told them the women were unacceptable and requested more submissive females be brought to him.

The Robinson women were escorted back to the stockade. Smith was the first to realize something was wrong.

"Mrs. Robinson, what happened to you? Please, come here," Smith requested.

The Professor intercepted her and gently removed her hand from her face. "What happened, Maureen?"

"I'm alright," she announced. Before she could explain what had happened, Penny interrupted and described everything that had gone on in Mal J'hat's quarters.

"I'll kill him!" the Major yelled.

"Get in line, Don. I want first crack at him," the Professor stated.

"There'll be nothing left for you, gentlemen, if I get to him first," Smith vowed, his voice cold and calculating.

Both the Professor and the Major looked at Smith, eyebrows raised in surprise. Smith looked back at them, determination on his face and anger in his eyes. It was something they'd never seen in Smith, but somehow it didn't seem out of place.

"My dear lady," Smith's countenance softened as he addressed Mrs. Robinson, "Please come over here so I can take a look."

Mrs. Robinson complied and Smith studied her injured cheek through the forcefield.

"There's already some bruising. The laceration is quite superficial and should heal well. Clean it, bandage it, and some antibiotic ointment wouldn't be amiss. Who knows what wretched things live on that blackguard." Smith sighed heavily. He wanted to tend to Mrs. Robinson's injuries himself. He owed her that much and more for her kindness over the years. "I regret that you had to meet that reptilian reprobate, madame."

"Me too," Mrs. Robinson agreed. She suddenly had much more appreciation for what Doctor Smith had faced when he had saved her son. She was just glad Mal J'hat had not decided to utilize any of the intimidating weapons that hung on his wall on them. Doctor Smith hadn't had that luxury and she could only imagine that the fear he had experienced dwarfed her own.

"Are you ok, Mrs. Robinson?" Smith asked.

"I'm fine," she replied automatically.

"Are you  _sure_  you're fine?" Smith repeated.

Mrs. Robinson saw the concern in the doctor's eyes and understood that he wasn't just asking about her physical well being. She nodded. "I will be," she answered.

"And Penny and Judy?" he asked.

Mrs. Robinson nodded. "They'll be fine."

Smith nodded as he looked out toward the Robinson daughters. They appeared very shaken. A feeling of protectiveness, so strong that it surprised him, rose up in him. It was one thing for Mal J'hat to harass him, or even the Major or Professor, but quite another to see him harassing such kind and caring souls as the Robinson women. It angered him beyond measure.

...

"I'm getting very tired of these humans," Mal J'hat spat.

"They are nothing but trouble, sir," the leader's personal assistant offered.

Mal J'hat had severely underestimated them. He had assessed the humans as weak and vulnerable, but they had all shown themselves to be intelligent, resilient, adaptable, and fierce when cornered, even their females. They were not at all what he expected. It bothered him. He saw them as a threat and he wanted them gone.

He addressed his assistant. "Have the arena ready in three days. Alert B'tal and make sure he is prepared. And set up a meeting with my most trusted guards. The humans won't be trouble for very much longer."

...

Major West approached the Professor with the intent of continuing their conversation regarding Smith and their escape plans. "John? The trial is over. The Asmani have made their decision. What do you intend to do now?"

The Professor was rarely at a loss for strategy, but this was one of those times. He'd had to make the decision to sacrifice Smith before to ensure the survival of his family, but this time was different. Smith had saved his son. It was a debt he couldn't easily repay and one he didn't want to repay with abandonment. It irritated him that Smith had understood his decision and accepted it so readily. If Smith had shown any of his usual self-centeredness, it would have been so much easier.

"I don't know, Don," the Professor admitted. "I just don't know."

"Well, let's start at square one. We need to know the defenses and layout of this place. How do we get that?" West asked.

"I may be able to help you with that, gentlemen," Smith offered. He knew the only way left for him to help his family was to impart all the information he'd gained to the Professor and the Major in the hopes they could use it to escape.

"Smith, anybody ever tell you that you have the ears of an owl?" West asked.

Smith simply smiled and motioned the men over.

"What information could you possibly have that would be of any use?" West questioned.

"Layout of the base, schematics of the power grid and communication systems, surveillance, defense systems. Would that be helpful?" Smith grinned.

"How did you get access to all that?" the Professor asked.

"I have my sources," Smith stated.

The Major and Professor looked at each other. Both assumed Smith meant T'pat and M'jek and left it at that.

"Where is all this information?" West asked. "And just when did you get it?"

Smith tapped an index finger to his temple a few times. "Did you think I've been doing nothing the entire time we've been here, Major?"

"Well, doing nothing  _does_  seem to be a habit with you, Smith," West replied.

Smith cast the Major an irritated glance.

The Major eyed the doctor suspiciously. He knew full well Smith was cunning and crafty, but the doctor had been in rare form lately. More than once during their captivity, the doctor had completely surprised him. He rarely counted on Smith to come through in a pinch, but this time seemed different. A completely hopeless situation had, for some reason he couldn't fathom, brought out the best in the doctor and it pained the Major to think it would be the end of him.

"Ok, let's have it," the Professor said, not quite sure he believed the doctor had any valuable information at all.

"First things first. Layout." Smith sat down, his back to the forcefield so he could map out the base in the same perspective the Major and the Professor were viewing it from. He outlined an imaginary map on the ground using the square patterns in the cement floor as a grid. He showed the relationships between their location and other areas of interest, the directions through the hallways to get there, and the surveillance camera installations and timing.

The Professor was quickly convinced Smith knew what he was talking about. It made him wonder just what the doctor had been up to all this time and what other secrets he may be hiding.

Smith quizzed the men to make sure they had committed the map to memory. He then moved on to the schematics, describing the weaknesses of the power and communications systems.

"M'jek and T'pat just  _gave_  you all this information?" West asked.

"Well, it's obvious by the fact that I have it, Major, that they certainly didn't keep me from it, did they?" Smith countered.

West just shrugged and Smith continued, describing the defenses inside and outside the base that they'd have to contend with.

"And if you knock out power to this sector," Smith pointed to his imaginary map, "it will disable the laser turrets. However, if you have enough time to completely knock out the power, you won't have to deal with anything but the guards. They do have backup generators that will start up automatically during a blackout, but they are reserved for Sick Bay, security measures on the Armory, and unfortunately..." the doctor sighed heavily, "maximum security cells. You'd have to open the main gates manually, but I'm sure you can convince 5 or 6 of your friendly neighborhood Kir Gal to come along with you. The more, the merrier, in fact."

"You know, Smith, I'm beginning to think you might have actually earned those Colonel's birds all by yourself," West chuckled.

Smith cast an annoyed glance at West. "Why, thank you, Major," he replied, his tone completely sarcastic and insincere.  _If you only knew how I came by these talents,_ he thought.

"If you had all this information, Doctor Smith, why didn't you help us attempt an escape earlier?" the Professor wondered.

Smith sighed. "Professor, I had only just finished compiling it when I was incarcerated in here. At that point, I had more pressing matters on my mind. I'm sorry."

"There's nothing to be sorry for, Doctor Smith. You've done excellent," the Professor praised.

Smith smiled briefly at the compliment. "So, when will you attempt escape, gentlemen?"

The Professor and Major looked at each other. "Excuse us a minute, Smith," West requested. He pulled the Professor along by the elbow until they were well out of range for Smith to overhear.

"John, I know you want to leave this place as soon as possible, but..."

"I've made my decision, Don," the Professor interrupted. "I have re-thought my earlier position. We're not leaving here as long as there's any possibility of leaving with Smith, no matter how slim. He saved Will... and the information he just revealed may save us. I can't repay him with abandonment."

West smiled. "Agreed. In the meantime, I think we should start testing some boundaries. Perhaps see if we can enlist the help of a few of Smith's new friends."

The Professor nodded. "I think we can do that."

The two men walked back over to Smith, who was waiting expectantly for their answer.

"Doctor Smith," the Professor began, "we have decided to immediately start putting your information to use. Do you think we can get the cooperation of your friends T'pat and M'jek?"

Smith shifted uncomfortably. For some reason, he was uneasy at the thought. "I honestly can't say, Professor. They have already risked far more than I ever would have expected. They may balk at assisting an escape attempt and quite frankly, I would not want to be responsible for the consequences should their involvement be discovered. I am quite positive M'jek only narrowly avoided the fate I now face."

"I understand," the Professor replied. However, despite Smith's feelings, he was not about to turn down some inside help if it was available. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to ask. If they're willing to take the risk, we certainly could use their help."

"I plan on talking to T'pat and asking him to escort me to a meeting with Mal J'hat. Then I'm going to give him the slip and check out the power station," West announced.

Smith shifted uncomfortably again. Sometimes it scared him when he and the Major thought alike. It also made him nervous that West might inadvertently learn of his own intel gathering efforts. He sincerely hoped T'pat would keep his mouth shut. What made him most anxious of all, however, were the consequences the Major faced should he fail. Mal J'hat would have no qualms about executing him expeditiously.

"That's an excellent plan, Don," the Professor said. "In the meantime, I'll see if I can talk to M'jek and get his cooperation."

The doctor felt completely helpless. This was his mission. He had done all the leg work. It felt strange to have to turn it over to someone else. He knew both men were quite capable, but somehow he couldn't help but feel that, in this instance, he was better suited for the job. Espionage and sabotage were, after all, his forté.

"Oh, Doctor Smith," the Professor added, "I have decided... we're not leaving without you, as long as the possibility we can get you out of there remains."

Smith nodded, "I appreciate that, Professor." He held no illusions they could rescue him, but he did truly appreciate their pledge not to abandon him as long as he was alive. Still, he preferred they were safely out of there as soon as possible, with or without him.

Their current strategy decided, the two men left to pursue their particular tasks. Smith noticed they hadn't told the rest of the family what they were up to, so the doctor would have to worry enough for all of them.

...

The guard at the main entrance to the stockade was surprised to see another human asking for T'pat. He had become accustomed to seeing the doctor show up at odd times requesting to see the Asmani guard.

T'pat arrived quickly, assuming it was something urgent if one of the other humans had requested him.

"I'd like to talk to Mal J'hat," West said.

T'pat's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What for?"

"None of your business," West replied.

T'pat studied the Major for a moment. He had a strong feeling of déjà vu, but ignored it and offered to escort the human. "Alright, come along."

West waited for T'pat to lead the way, but the guard insisted, "You first."

"But I don't know the way," the Major explained.

"I'll give you directions," T'pat replied. He didn't want to have to cover up another security breach.

_Great_ , Don thought.  _I'm not going to get anywhere like this._

The Major tried engaging T'pat in conversation, as Smith had. He tried shortening his stride so T'pat would overtake him. He even attempted the tried and true "Hey, what's that over there?" routine, but the guard was not fooled. Frustrated at every turn, West eventually just took off running. Unfortunately, the guard caught up to him in a few short strides.

"I know what you're up to, human," T'pat said. "It won't work."

"Look, I know you're a friend of Smith's. I just want to get a look at the power station. Can you get me in there?" West replied.

"It's too risky for me and definitely too risky for you," the guard answered. "Besides, if you were as competent as the doctor, you wouldn't need to ask me that."

The Major stood puzzling for a moment, fairly certain he had just been insulted, but also wondering if there was more to Smith's story about how he'd gained access to the information he had shared.

Before West could even guess at what the doctor had been up to, T'pat shoved him back the way they had come, headed for the stockade.

The Major turned slightly and said with a tinge of frustration, "Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying."

T'pat laughed. He'd certainly heard that line, or a variation thereof, before.

Smith was relieved to see Major West return, but immediately knew his attempt had been a failure. It was impossible for him to have been gone for such a short time and still have been able to get a decent look at the power station.

"What happened, Don?" the Professor asked.

"T'pat watched me like a hawk," West admitted. "I couldn't slip away to check the power station. You know, John, I think he may have dealt with sneaky humans before."

"What... Smith?" the Professor asked. Both men studied the doctor who was obviously trying to determine what the two men were discussing. Smith smiled weakly, unsettled by the looks he was getting.

"I have a hard time believing that. Smith?" the Professor repeated.

"I don't think it's outside the realm of possibility, John," West insisted.

The Professor laughed and shook his head. "Possible? Yes. Plausible? No. Smith probably just struck some sort of deal with M'jek, like he did for the medical supplies. He's a better negotiator than a spy," he rationalized. "Besides, T'pat's a guard. He guards things. And he did a pretty good job with you." The Professor laughed. "You really think Smith could have done any better?"

West thought for a moment. "You're probably right."

"Well, since you didn't get anywhere with T'pat, I might as well see if I can get anywhere with M'jek," the Professor announced. "Wish me luck."

"Good luck," West offered.

...

The Professor paid close attention as M'jek led him through the halls to his quarters. He was able to confirm some of Smith's information, specifically the surveillance in the corridors. As they entered the doctor's office, M'jek offered the Professor a seat, which he promptly took.

"So, Professor Robinson, what do you wish to discuss?" the doctor asked.

"Getting out of this place," the Professor stated boldly. "And perhaps your help in doing so..."

"I see," M'jek replied, voice full of caution. "What of Doctor Smith?"

"Our plans include him, so long as the possibility remains that we are able to take him with us," the Professor explained.

M'jek stroked his chin thoughtfully. "How do you propose to break him out of his maximum security cell?" M'jek inquired.

"We were hoping you could provide information on vulnerabilities that would allow us to effect his escape."

The doctor shook his head. "Professor Robinson, I am a doctor. Prison security is not within my realm of expertise," he explained. "Even if it were, I'm afraid what you're asking is... dangerous, if not impossible. I'm sorry about Doctor Smith, I've grown very fond of him in the short time I've known him, but I do not know of a way of escape for him. At least, not one that wouldn't lead to my own demise, Professor. As much as I like the man, I'm not about to risk my life for an alien prisoner." The doctor regarded the look of frustration and perhaps glimmer of anger in the human's eyes. "Now, I may be able to get the rest of you out, but again, I'd be taking a fantastic risk."

"We're not leaving Smith, not while he's alive," the Professor insisted. "He saved my son," he pleaded, "I can't just leave him here."

"Admirable of you," the doctor lauded. "He is lucky to have such friends, a fact of which I'm sure he's well aware. Unfortunately, as much as I would like to, I simply cannot help you. I'm sorry."

The Professor could tell from the doctor's voice and expression that he was sincere. Somehow, it didn't make him feel any better. "I'm sorry, too, to have wasted your time."

"Oh, it was not a waste. If there's anything I can do for you, anything at all, including getting the rest of your family out of here, don't hesitate to ask." M'jek paused for a moment, in thought. "I do not know the man as well as you, Professor, but I think that the doctor would like to see you and your family safely out of this place, even if it meant his life was forfeit."

The doctor's last statement struck the Professor. If he had been told months ago what would happen to them and this same statement was spoken about Smith, he'd have a hard time believing it. After the experiences of the last several weeks and his own conversations with Smith, it wasn't so difficult to believe anymore. "Thank you for your offer. And thank you for all the help you've given us so far. My family would probably be in much worse shape if it wasn't for you."

"You're very welcome, Professor," M'jek replied. "It was the least I could do for you. Our relationship has not been without benefit for me, as well. You humans are very unique and I consider myself fortunate to have met you."

Professor Robinson smiled at the sincere compliment. Despite the fact M'jek declined to help spring Smith, he couldn't help but like the alien doctor.

"We'd best be getting you back," M'jek announced. "Again, I'm truly sorry."

The Professor nodded and the two left for the stockade.

Major West and Doctor Smith were waiting anxiously to hear the outcome of the Professor's conversation with M'jek. When he arrived back at their camp, they could tell by the look on the Professor's face that he had not accomplished what he'd wanted.

"Things didn't go well?" West asked.

"Not exactly," the Professor replied. "Oh, he offered to help the rest of us escape, but he said there's no way to spring Smith... not without the strong likelihood of M'jek himself being executed. He likes you, doctor, but he's not about to risk his life for you."

"Understandable," Smith replied. "But Professor, if there's a possibility of escape for you and the others, you must take it. My situation can't be helped. I appreciate your offer to stay for my sake, but it simply isn't realistic. Please, take him up on his offer. Get your family out of this pernicious purgatory while you have the chance."

The Professor smiled, both at the doctor's alliteration and the fact he confirmed M'jek's belief that the doctor wanted to see his family safe, even if he had to be left behind. "I won't go back on my promise to you, Doctor Smith. We won't leave without you, not as long as you're still alive. We'll have to find a way."

The Major agreed with a nod. "Like I told John, we all go or none of us go."

The doctor was conflicted. He desperately wanted to leave this place and continue life with the Robinsons as before. Since that was an impossibility, he wanted to see them safe, so at the very least, his death would have some meaning. If he was going to die, he wanted to die knowing they had escaped. It would give him some sense of peace. Besides, their escape would be a victory against Mal J'hat, a victory Smith wanted a great deal.

"Professor, your stubbornness can be most irritating," Smith said before turning and stalking off to the corner of his cell.

"He's right," West confirmed.

"About what?"

"Your stubbornness  _can_  be irritating," the Major smiled.

"Well, hopefully, that stubbornness will get us all out of here," the Professor replied.


	14. Fight or Flight

The following day, Smith was delighted to have a visit from his favorite Utak siblings. He'd grown fond of them, especially Kress. If there was one memory of this whole horrific experience Smith wanted to keep, it was of Kress' "thank you" and their many conversations.

They spent most of the morning discussing life on their respective home worlds, especially their favorite delicacies. Smith couldn't help but steer the conversation in that direction, as he couldn't remember the last decent meal he'd had. Once that topic had played out and talk turned to memories of home, Smith mostly listened, because he was quite certain he'd never see home again and it depressed him.

During their visit, a lone guard had come to the Robinson camp. He rousted the Utak siblings from their positions near the doctor and ordered them away.

"Now see here!" Smith said indignantly, as the Utak stood nearby, not wanting to leave.

The guard glared evilly at Smith, which quieted him immediately. It was a look that meant trouble and Smith had no desire to see anyone hurt. Then the guard shot a glare at Kress and her brother. They hesitantly left the immediate area, but stayed within earshot.

"Mal J'hat wishes you to know that you will be summoned to the arena in two days," the guard announced.

"Summoned? Or dragged?" Smith said coolly.

"It depends on your cooperation. One way or the other, you will end up there," the guard replied. "Once there, you will be challenged. Should you accept, you will have the opportunity to fight for your life. Should you decline, your execution will go on as scheduled." He studied Smith for a moment and then laughed, as if the doctor didn't have a chance. The guard turned on his heels and left.

The Professor and Major West had been listening to the exchange. "Don, I think that might be our chance," he said. "Smith will be out of the cell. If we can create enough of a distraction, perhaps with the help of some our alien friends, we can slip out during the pandemonium."

"And what?" West asked. "We won't have time to disable their defenses."

"And... run like hell and pray?" the Professor replied. "It's the best we can manage right now."

The Major smiled. "I suppose so. At least we'll have the element of surprise to our advantage."

...

Once the guard had left, Kress and her brother returned. Smith could tell they were distressed. When they explained what the challenge would most likely be, he understood the reason for their discomfort. He had assumed he would be fighting Mal J'hat. While he didn't relish the opportunity, he figured he at least had a fair shot, if prior experience was any indication. However, that would most likely not be the case. Mal J'hat had a habit of having others do his dirty work, at least up until the point where he could take over and finish the job and claim the glory with little risk to himself. B'tal, a behemoth who simply never lost, was Mal J'hat's favorite choice to soften up prisoners in the arena, leaving very little for the chief to contend with.

Kress had seen B'tal fight prisoners on more than one occasion. She supplied a detailed description of the Asmani arena champ, which only made Smith wonder if he was really being giving a chance at all. Though his odds in the arena were only slightly better than the alternative, he'd have to fight.

...

Smith had little to do but wait for his day in the arena. The Professor had filled him in on their escape plans. It was less detailed and more risky than the doctor would have preferred, but it was all they had. All he had to do was run, something he knew how to do very well.

When the time came, dozens upon dozens of guards entered the stockade, weapons drawn. Mal J'hat liked to play to a full house, so the guards took small groups of prisoners at a time to the arena to fill the stands and view the spectacle. The Professor and Major West hadn't expected that and before long, most of their allies who had pledged their support in an escape attempt had been escorted away. The humans were the last to be chained together and escorted to the arena.

"What now?" West whispered to the Professor.

"Plan B," he replied.

"What's that?"

"Improvise," the Professor answered. "If you find an opening, take it."

The Major was going to ask just how to find an opening with two dozen guards watching them, but decided against it after being warned by a jab from a guard's laser rifle.

West glanced back at Smith. The older man's face was creased with worry. The Major wouldn't realize the extent of Smith's worry until he saw the monstrosity he was set to face.

Unfortunately, no opening for escape materialized en route. As they entered the arena, Smith searched for the goliath Kress had described and quickly spotted him among the Asmani milling around the edges of the field of battle. He was hard to miss, as he towered above nearly everyone there. He stood at least eight feet tall and was all muscle. Smith knew he was outclassed physically, so he silently prayed his opponent was clumsy, stupid, or both.

The humans were brought down to the arena floor, while the other prisoners were situated on benches up in the stands. Smith's manacles were removed, while the Robinsons and Major West remained secured in theirs. The guards gestured for the humans to sit in the metal folding chairs that lined the arena, but they all declined and remained standing. One of the guards shoved the doctor forward onto the dirt infield of the arena towards Mal J'hat, who stood in the center.

Mal J'hat motioned Smith towards him. He also motioned B'tal to the center of the arena as well. He then pressed a button on the communications device on his arm. Smith surmised he had just patched into some sort of PA system, as he heard a bit of static emanate from speakers around the arena.

"Doctor Smith, you have been condemned to death for your crimes," Mal J'hat's voice boomed over the loudspeakers. "But I am not heartless..."

"You could have fooled me," Smith retorted.

Judging by the laughs in the audience, the microphone had obviously picked up Smith's response. Incensed by the doctor's insolence, Mal J'hat swung the back of his hand toward Smith's face. Smith, well versed in the despot's tactics by now, quickly dodged backward out of reach, smirk firmly in place on his untouched face. Mal J'hat glared menacingly at the doctor, but didn't attempt another swing.

"As I was saying," he continued, "I am graciously giving you a chance to fight for your life. Your opponent will be B'tal." He gestured toward the colossal Asmani warrior standing nearby. "Do you choose to accept this opportunity?"

Smith studied his opponent, wanting no part of him. He glanced back at the Robinsons and Major West, who all had apprehensive looks on their faces. He made his decision. He cleared his throat and announced, "I will not fight him." He jabbed a thumb sideways at his opponent who stood next to him.

"You choose death, then?" Mal J'hat confirmed.

"No," Smith stated. He pointed at the Asmani chief. "I choose to fight you." He folded his arms across his chest and awaited an answer.

A murmur rose from the audience. Nobody had ever challenged Mal J'hat. They too anxiously awaited the chief's response.

Mal J'hat seethed. This was not going exactly as he had planned. He hadn't counted on the doctor's audacity. He wasn't the type. Little did he know it wasn't audacity that had spurred the doctor to make the challenge. It was pure fear. Next to B'tal, Mal J'hat looked much more appealing as an opponent. Mal J'hat's gaze wandered around the arena. It was one thing to be called a coward by the doctor in the privacy of his own quarters. It was quite another to be branded one by everyone in the arena, including hundreds of prisoners.

"Well?" Smith prodded, confident that he had wedged the leader into a situation he couldn't gracefully extract himself from. The evil glare Mal J'hat threw at him only reinforced the thought.

"Very well," Mal J'hat said. "I accept your challenge, doctor." He lunged at Smith, fist connecting solidly to the doctor's jaw almost before the words had left his mouth.

Smith stumbled backward and brought a hand to his jaw. Gasps echoed through the arena at the sucker punch. Mal J'hat lunged again, awkwardly this time, but Smith deftly dodged the punch. The chief's momentum took him past the doctor and Smith couldn't resist planting a boot in his backside, sending his opponent into the dirt. Cheers and boos reverberated through the arena, the prisoners simply delighted and the Asmani afraid to express their true feelings.

Mal J'hat scrambled to his feet and rounded on the doctor, tensed and ready to strike again. Smith tensed too and mirrored his opponent's stance, determined to avoid anything that would inflict additional pain upon his person, though he realized the chances of that were very slim.

The Asmani chief took a quick step forward and tried grabbing Smith in a hold. The doctor swatted Mal J'hat's hands away and took several steps back out of reach. His move effectively parried, Mal J'hat ran at Smith, tackling him to the ground. Smith hit the ground hard, his head snapping back and smacking against the arena floor. Dazed, he was unable to deflect Mal J'hat's hands as they reached for his throat.

The immediate threat triggered a rush of adrenaline and Smith desperately dug his nails into Mal J'hat's hands. Mal J'hat grunted in pain, but his grip held firm. Smith grabbed his opponent's wrists and tried pushing them away with all the strength he could muster. He made little progress, but when Mal J'hat leaned down to force more pressure onto Smith's throat, the doctor saw an opening and took it. He threw a well-placed jab into Mal J'hat's nose, stunning him for the briefest of moments. Pain radiated through Smith's knuckles and up his arm, eliciting a grunt of pain. He shook his hand, but resisted the urge to survey the damage, as time was quickly running out for him. Gritting his teeth to the pain that would inevitably follow, he threw a harder jab, which caused the chief's grip to falter. It was then that the doctor shoved his opponent with all his might, throwing him off. He quickly rolled away and struggled to his feet, one hand massaging his throat as his lungs frantically fought to pull in air. His other arm pressed tightly against the renewed pain in his previously bruised ribs.

Mal J'hat quickly got to his feet. He noticed the doctor favoring his left side and grinned, planning to exploit that knowledge in his attacks. The chief came at Smith again and, though every fiber of the doctor's being screamed at him to flee, he stood his ground. Mal J'hat swung at him and Smith ducked, but he wasn't prepared for the body blow his opponent hammered into his mid section. As he doubled over, the doctor took a punch to the head and stumbled backwards. Before he could get his wits about him, another shot to the head put him on the ground again.

Major West whispered to the Professor, "He's in trouble already. He doesn't stand a chance." The Professor didn't bother to dispute the statement.

Smith rolled over onto his stomach and struggled to his hands and knees. Mal J'hat didn't waste any time going on the offensive again, this time with a quick kick to Smith's injured left side. The doctor howled in pain and grabbed his ribs, but somehow managed to get to his feet and out of Mal J'hat's reach.

For every step Mal J'hat took toward him, Smith shuffled a step back, staying out of reach until he had sufficiently recovered. This elicited boos from the crowd, but he cared very little. His opponent, tired of being led in a dance, went for Smith again and they met, two pairs of arms grappling for an advantage. The doctor's side screamed at him to do something to relieve the pressure and pain. Smith took a step forward, shoved his arms down and a knee up, surprising the Asmani chief with a blow to his mid-section that took the wind out of him. He released his grip and Smith let his opponent fall to the ground. Realizing he had a clear shot, the doctor added a quick kick to Mal J'hat's head, sending him flat on his back. The doctor took a few cautious deep breaths as he massaged his side.

As his opponent lingered on the ground, Smith pressed his advantage and aimed another kick at the despot's side in retaliation, but by that time Mal J'hat was ready. He caught Smith's leg and yanked hard, sending the doctor to the dirt. The fall sent a jolt up Smith's spine, paralyzing him with pain. He rolled over onto his stomach, the back of one hand pressed tightly against his lower back and his face frozen in a tortured grimace.

"Oh, John. I can't watch this," Mrs. Robinson cried as she turned her head away. The Professor held her in an attempt to comfort her, but he felt the exact same way. If they'd had a choice, they wouldn't be witness to this barbarism. If they had a choice, they wouldn't even be on this planet and neither would Smith.

Mal J'hat staggered to his feet and rested for a moment, hands on his knees. A few seconds later, he grabbed a handful of Smith's tunic and hauled the doctor to his knees. He immediately put him a chokehold from behind. Smith's hands grasped his opponent's arm and pulled ineffectually against the hold. It took a few precious moments for the doctor's mind to find the answer to his dilemma. When he did, he grasped the pressure point just above his opponent's elbow and squeezed hard. Mal J'hat's face contorted in pain and he broke the hold. Smith shoved his opponent backward, affording him some space to both recover and maneuver.

Smith's stamina was seriously flagging and his body ached everywhere. Without the affects of the adrenaline coursing through his veins, he'd be finished already. Mal J'hat was easily ten years younger and in better physical condition. The doctor realized this would not be nearly as easy as he thought, but still, it was better than facing the Asmani goliath. He staggered over to the wall of the arena and leaned it against it, taking whatever short respite his opponent would allow.

As Mal J'hat approached, Smith pushed himself away from the wall and backed away from his opponent toward the middle of the arena. The chief quickly caught up to the doctor and landed a combination of punches to Smith's head. Smith went down again and tried to shake the cobwebs from his head. His opponent just stood over him, as if waiting for him to get up for more punishment. Smith saw another opportunity and took it, slamming a booted foot into the despot's knee. With a cry of pain, Mal J'hat was on his knees and another target of opportunity opened up. Smith pushed himself to his knees and landed a right cross to his opponent's face. It connected solidly, whipping Mal J'hat's head back and spraying blood everywhere. The doctor yelped at the stinging pain that shot through his knuckles and up his forearm. As his opponent lay on the ground, stunned, Smith got to his feet, shaking and massaging his bruised hand.

Mal J'hat turned onto his stomach and lingered on the ground for a moment. Smith could see movement, but kept his distance, as he had no idea just what his opponent was up to. Mal J'hat rose slowly and wiped the blood from his face with a sleeve. He strode toward the doctor to engage him again.

The Asmani chief took another swipe at the doctor and, as Smith dodged backward, a trail of fire raced across his chest. He shrieked in pain and grasped at his burning flesh. He stumbled back and looking down, saw his shirt had been torn open and a thin red line traveled the width of his chest. A quick assessment told him it was mostly superficial, but it burned like hell. Looking at his opponent, he saw the glint of the knife in his hand and Smith's eyes widened in fear.

"That guy's gonna make mincemeat of Smith with that knife. This is an unfair fight!" West observed angrily. "Smith didn't get a weapon!" The boos erupting in the arena agreed with the Major.

None of the Robinsons bothered to contradict their pilot. Each was sure they were going to witness the end of the doctor and most likely in a gruesome manner. What made it so difficult was that they were helpless to stop it, or so they thought.

Smith had held his own so far, or at the very least he was still standing, but he knew Mal J'hat had the advantage of youth. The despot could easily have worn the doctor down had he wanted to and won the match fair and square, but instead, he resorted to dirty tricks. Smith's fear turned to righteous indignation at the thought. Then, as Mal J'hat came at him, knife raised and poised to stab, Smith's righteous indignation turned to anger and it burned as hotly as the wound on his chest. He wasn't going to go out like this, especially not with his family watching. Muscle memory, long buried in Smith's subconscious, took over as the threat approached. As Mal J'hat swung the weapon downward, Smith stepped to his left, brought his right arm up against his opponent's to deflect the blow, and then slammed his other hand into the knife wielding arm in an effort to dislodge the weapon. The move was smooth and practiced, as if the doctor had performed it many times before.

West smiled. He nudged the Professor. "Hey! Look at that. Seems Smith learned something in the Air Force."

The Professor smiled cautiously, completely aware that this fight was far from over.

Mal J'hat managed to hang on to the weapon, but Smith was now in the perfect position to pull his opponent's arm behind his back and he did so while shoving him into the arena wall. The tyrant finally let loose of the weapon and struggled to break free of the doctor's grasp. He slammed the heel of his boot down hard on Smith's toes and the doctor let loose for a split second as the pain shot up his leg. Before Mal J'hat could turn around, however, Smith wrapped his arms around him in a headlock and squeezed for all he was worth.

The Asmani chief struggled to pull free of the doctor's grasp. The two nearly spun in a circle as Mal J'hat tried to trip Smith. Suddenly, Mal J'hat shoved backwards, slamming Smith hard into the arena wall. The doctor released his grip and slid to the ground.

As his opponent came for him, Smith spied the knife laying in the dirt right next to him. When he picked it up, Mal J'hat stopped in his tracks. The doctor slowly pushed himself to stand with the help of the wall. With a quick hand signal from Mal J'hat, B'tal charged out to assist his leader. Smith's confidence quickly turned to indecision and fear in the face of two formidable opponents.

Seeing Smith in serious trouble and outnumbered, the Major struggled futilely with his bonds. He paused a moment and then exclaimed, "I'm so stupid!"

The Professor looked at him, puzzled. "Good thing Doctor Smith didn't hear that," he quipped. "Just why are you so stupid?"

West pulled down the edge of his sleeve to reveal the key to the manacles Smith had given him when they were about to be shipped out to the palace. It had remained securely tucked between his wrist and his manacles all this time. Both mens' faces lit up at the discovery.

West recalled what the doctor had told him about using the key. "I would say this situation could be classified as 'dicey', wouldn't you, John?" the Major asked.

The Professor nodded. "That's an understatement."

The Major quickly released himself from his bonds and passed the key to the Professor. Not bothering to wait for the others to be freed, he charged out into the arena to help Smith. By the time Mal J'hat heard West coming, it was too late. The Major slammed into the tyrant and tackled him to the ground.

"Thanks for leaving me King Kong, Major," Smith grumbled. The doctor glanced from the behemoth to the knife in his hand and back again. "I think I need a bigger knife."

Not wanting B'tal to get close enough to lay a hand on him, he tried his luck and flung the dagger as hard as he could. Unfortunately, the handle hit B'tal's leather armor and the blade dropped ineffectually to the ground. As an angry scowl darkened the behemoth's face, Smith decided that moment would be a good time to flee.

The doctor took off running, the angry giant close on his heels. "Major! Maaaajoooorrrr! Heeeeeellllp!"

The familiar sound of the doctor's desperate pleas for help reached the Major's ears, but unfortunately for the doctor, the Major had his hands full with Mal J'hat. When he managed to glance up to see what trouble Smith was in, he was rewarded with a fist to his face. As he blocked additional shots from his opponent and retaliated with a few of his own, he was beginning to wonder how the doctor was still standing, let alone running, after the pounding he'd taken. West managed to connect with a right cross. As his opponent stumbled backward, he followed up with a left hook and then a right, sending him into the dirt.

While West and Smith were busy, the Professor freed the rest of the family and cautioned them to stay put. He'd be back soon with the others and they'd attempt an escape if they could manage a sufficient distraction.

"But dad, I can help!" Will pleaded.

"Against THAT?" the Professor replied. "You stay PUT. You hear me?"

Will stayed silent, but the disappointment on his face convinced the Professor that his message was received. As soon as the Professor's back was turned, Will quickly and quietly followed his father, much to the protests of his mother and sisters.

With West's opponent sufficiently stunned, he ran off to help Smith. What he found was B'tal holding the whimpering doctor over his head like a trophy. The Professor was pummeling the giant with ineffectual body blows while Will worked on the back of B'tal's legs.

"Will! I told you to stay PUT!" the Professor barked. "Get back over there with your mother and sisters!"

"But you need help!" Will argued.

"Look out!" West yelled as he barreled toward them as fast as he could. The Professor and Will cleared the way as the Major crashed into B'tal's mid-section at full force. West fell to the ground stunned, as if he'd just run headlong into a brick wall. Despite B'tal being virtually immovable, the attack had the desired effect and the giant dropped Smith, who landed directly on top of Major West, face to face.

"Major, what kept you?" Smith inquired.

"Unnnnngh."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, get the hell off me!" West yelled as he shoved at the doctor.

The doctor complied and rolled onto the ground.

"I think they need to cut back your rations," the Major added.

Smith got to his feet and dusted himself off, his back to West. "I doubt it would have been any less painful if I was lighter, Major." He started walking over to where the Robinsons were. "Besides, if I were any lighter, that beast could have used me for a javelin."

"Smith?"

"What?" the doctor asked, not bothering to turn around.

"Smith!" the Major yelled, more urgently.

"What?" Smith said, annoyed. He turned to face the Major, only to see him taking a turn over the head of the behemoth.

Smith stood there staring, mouth agape. It had been terrifying to be in the position that West was now in, but seeing it from his current perspective, he realized just how large B'tal was and how small and fragile the Major looked in comparison.

The Professor tapped Smith on the arm. "C'mon, Smith. We've gotta get Don down from there."

"Oh," Smith replied. "Yes, of course. You lead the way, Professor." Smith stayed well behind the man as he led the charge toward the giant.

The Professor attempted the same tactic as Major West with nearly the same results, only the Professor had the wherewithal to roll out of the way of West's descent. As the two men lay on the ground, they were unaware of Mal J'hat who was almost on top of them.

"Dad! Look out!" Will yelled.

Suddenly, the Professor saw the glint of metal in his peripheral vision and a blur of movement. Before he could react, Mal J'hat flew sideways past his field of view and landed with a heavy thud. Smith was on top of him, struggling with the knife. Mrs. Robinson quickly joined the doctor in attempting to disarm the dictator, scratching and slapping at Mal J'hat's hands.

Meanwhile, Judy led Will and Penny against B'tal as he attempted to attack Major West again. They were like gnats against his size and power, but they had the advantage of speed and struck quickly at one spot, then moved to another. While Will kept the giant busy, Penny gave Judy a lift and she grabbed around the giant's neck, slapping, punching, and pulling his hair. He flailed his arms wildly as he tried desperately to dislodge her. She managed to poke one of his eyes and he stumbled around half blind. Together, they kept the giant preoccupied and unable to mount any effective attack.

Half a dozen guards ran onto the field to collect the human prisoners. T'pat joined them, more to protect the humans than anything else. As they approached the prisoners, the guard next to him pulled his pistol and aimed at Mrs. Robinson. T'pat managed to trip the guard, throwing off his aim as he fell. T'pat tumbled as well, to make it look like an accident. The shot went high and wide, hitting B'tal in the chest. The giant was unfazed as his armor provided sufficient protection, but the humans were surprised by the blast. They scrambled in every direction, hoping to avoid any additional fire.

The Robinson siblings quickly regrouped. When one of the guards grabbed Will, Penny dove and grabbed one of the guard's legs as he began to haul her brother off. The distraction was enough for Judy to grab the club hanging from the guard's belt. She proceeded to strike him repeatedly about the head until he released Will and fell to the ground, covering his head defensively with his arms.

The Major and the Professor fought back to back, taking down guards as they came at them and saving each other's bacon multiple times when one was outclassed or outnumbered.

The prisoners in the stands were incensed that the guards would fire on unarmed prisoners. Several of the large Kir Gal who had vowed to help in the humans' escape managed to surprise and overpower nearby guards, taking their weapons and keys to release their bonds. They, too, rushed the field and entered the fray. Fights broke out in the stands as the prisoners passed around keys, freeing themselves to take on their captors. The Asmani had very little choice but to fight back in order to defend themselves from the overwhelming numbers. Some, nearest the exits, fled in terror. Several of the fights flooded out of the stands and into the field.

Having disarmed Mal J'hat and rendered him unconscious, Smith directed Mrs. Robinson out of harm's way, toward a relatively quiet corner of the arena. One guard caught up to the duo and grabbed Smith's shoulder, turning him around. Smith cringed as he barely had time to register the fist coming toward his face. It never connected, however, as Mrs. Robinson landed a sharp kick to the guard's shins. That gave Smith the opening he needed and he hammered the guard with a right cross.

Smith shook out his hand and surveyed his bleeding knuckles. "My hand is a complete disaster area. It will never be the same."

While Smith was bemoaning the condition of his hand, the guard had recovered and was winding up to clobber the doctor.

"Doctor Smith, duck!" Mrs. Robinson yelled.

The doctor immediately hit the dirt as his opponent swung. Smith heard a metallic crunching sound, a grunt of pain, and the sound of a body slumping to the ground. When he looked up, Mrs. Robinson was standing over the unconscious guard, a folding chair in her hands. It had a large dent in the seat that the doctor surmised was caused by the guard's face.

"Thank you, madame," Smith said gratefully.

"You're very welcome, Doctor Smith," Mrs. Robinson acknowledged with a smile. She tossed the chair away and dusted off her hands.

The Professor quickly arrived on the scene and checked on the condition of his wife and the doctor. Major West soon joined them, a little bruised and out of breath, but otherwise in good shape. Judy led the way for her siblings through a crowd of combatants by swinging the club she had purloined. The entire family, honorary members and all, were soon reunited.

The Professor quickly addressed his family. "I thought I told all of you to stay put."

His children started to protest, but a quick smile from their father stopped them.

"C'mon," the Professor urged. "Now's our chance. This way."

West took position behind Judy and next to Smith, to keep a watchful eye on the battered and bruised doctor.

The Professor led them through a sea of combatants, ducking and dodging as they made their way to the nearest exit. The corridor was clear as they left the arena.

"That way!" Smith shouted and pointed as he directed the Professor toward a corridor that connected to the outermost corridors of the complex. "There's an exit not too far from here."

"No!" Will shouted. "We have to get the Robot."

"Son, we don't have time," the Professor responded.

"He's in safe hands, William," Smith added.

Will hesitated, unwilling to leave his friend behind.

"We'll get him back. I promise," the doctor added. "Let's go." Smith placed his hand on Will's back and nudged him forward.

They raced down the corridor. Smith, with West helping him, brought up the rear. They came to an intersection and Smith directed them down the left one. Despite his exhaustion and injuries, Smith pushed himself for all he was worth though his body screamed for rest. He knew he wouldn't get another chance at escape again. If he stopped, as he often did when fleeing various monsters from other worlds, he knew he'd die.

After traveling the length of that corridor, they turned right and saw the large outer door looming tantalizingly ahead of them. All of a sudden, a flood of guards streamed into the corridor in front of them from both sides. The Robinson party came to a sliding halt. Seeing prisoners free in the hallway, the guards shouted and ran at them. The humans all turned back and retraced their steps, intending to outrun or lose the guards and try another door.

A call went out over the communications network and dozens of guards heading for the arena turned around and ran to intercept the human prisoners. Within minutes, the Robinsons, Major West, and Doctor Smith found themselves trapped in the middle of a corridor between two groups of guards, all with weapons drawn. Wisely, they raised their hands and offered no resistance as they were taken back into custody.

"It was a valiant effort, Professor," Smith whispered.

The Professor nodded somberly as he and the others were secured in manacles again.

They could all hear the roar of the riot taking place in the arena. Despite their failure, Smith smiled, realizing he'd survived the ordeal. He had no illusions that Mal J'hat would honor the deal, but he counted it as a small victory anyway. His last thought before they marched him back to the stockade was to wonder what was happening to Mal J'hat at the moment. He hoped the tyrant was stuck in the middle of the melee, fearing for his life.


	15. A Matter of Time

Mal J'hat's seethed as he sat uncomfortably in the doctor's quarters, trying not to squirm as M'jek stitched up a few deep cuts he'd received during the brawl in the arena.

"The human doctor will pay for this, M'jek. His end will be painful. Slow and very, very painful," the tyrant vowed. Mal J'hat went into great detail of what he had planned for the doctor, details that made even a man like M'jek, used to seeing blood and gore, a little queasy.

The doctor mulled over the situation in his mind. His leader's wishes were certainly not a surprise, but he did not wish to see the human doctor suffer. He would not wish what Mal J'hat had planned on even his worst enemy.

M'jek's mind raced as he sought a way to dissuade Mal J'hat from his plans. "Great leader, as you probably already know, the prison population has grown considerably and they far outnumber our guards. It is no small feat to keep them all in line, as you no doubt saw in the arena. It will take our guards hours to recapture and subdue all the free prisoners. The human doctor, before you forbade it, was tending to the illnesses of the prisoners, a task I respectfully remind you that you should have allowed me to undertake." M'jek paused to gauge Mal J'hat's reaction and finding it neutral, continued. "As a result, the prisoners grew quite fond and appreciative of this human. If you execute him in such a manner as you wish, it may cause rioting, which we may not be able to control. I would recommend not executing him at all, but given the seriousness of his offense, I understand your wishes."

Mal J'hat's face grew dark and the doctor quickly moved to calm the growing storm he knew was brewing, "Mal J'hat, I tell you this only to protect your interests. It would not sit well with your father if he discovered you could not control your prisoners. Please, there is another way." M'jek went to nearby cabinet and withdrew two vials. He returned and showed them to Mal J'hat. "The combination of these two drugs will cause a quick and painless death. I believe that this show of 'mercy' will sit better in the eyes of the prisoners."

M'jek stood silently, awaiting a verdict from his leader. Mal J'hat thoughtfully stroked his chin for a moment, then spoke. "It is not what I want, I believe the human deserves worse. However, my father already has much to hold against me. I cannot risk adding more fuel to the fire with a riot. I will agree to your suggestion.  _You_  will perform the execution." Without so much as a goodbye, Mal J'hat turned and left the doctor's quarters.

...

Smith limped painfully into his cell. The adrenaline having long worn off, his body was starting to stiffen up and there was hardly a spot on him that didn't ache, sting, or burn. West, who had offered the doctor a shoulder for support on their trip back through the stockade, carefully lowered Smith onto his bed. Mrs. Robinson attempted to deliver more pain relievers to the doctor, but the guards blocked entry to the cell. As soon as the Major left the cell, the forcefield flickered on and the guards left.

The doctor, being the fastidious man he was, wished to clean himself up after rolling around in the dirty, dusty arena for the last hour or so, but found the act of moving too uncomfortable. Instead, he laid as still as possible and hoped he could get some sleep despite the constant pain.

The Robinsons and Major West cleaned themselves up a bit with cloths dampened with a little of their water rations. They didn't spend much time talking before getting ready for bed, as the day's events had completely exhausted them. They'd have plenty of time to talk the following day.

...

Early the next morning, T'pat visited Smith in his cell. He had brought a new shirt and offered to take Smith's torn one for mending. Smith was glad for the gesture, but what he really wanted was a hot bath. He doffed his tattered tunic carefully and handed it to T'pat. He managed to get to his feet with more than a few groans and made his way to the sink.

Smith assessed the wound to his chest. Fortunately, it wasn't deep enough to need stitches and in some places was little more than a scratch. He had been lucky. Gingerly, he cleaned the wound, often inhaling sharply through his teeth as it stung with irritation. He cleaned the rest of himself the best he could and donned the fresh shirt. He wet his fingers and ran them through his unkempt hair and then stroked a hand over his stubbled cheeks. What he wouldn't give for a razor right now. Just a few days ago, he'd at least had perks from his visits with M'jek: a chance to shave, a proper meal now and then, and the occasional shower. It was the little things that made the whole experience bearable. He sighed heavily and hobbled back to his bed, where he plopped down with an audible groan. He didn't bother to complain, as there was no one near enough to hear it.

There was nothing to do now but wait. Today and tomorrow were all Smith had left. As he stared out of his cell at his companions, he was reminded of that fateful day several years ago that had thrown him together with these people in an adventure he could hardly have imagined had he tried. At the time, they meant nothing to him and he wanted desperately to leave them and return home to Earth. He thought very little of throwing them to the wolves to get what he wanted. Now, they meant everything to him, they were all he had, and he wanted desperately to be with them again on the Jupiter 2. Smith was a gambling man and he'd studied the odds. Earth was becoming more of a longshot, while the Robinsons were a sure thing.

Smith watched the children as they ate their morning rations. He'd never had children of his own, but had he been given the opportunity, he would've wanted them to be as bright, articulate, and compassionate as Will and Penny. He'd watched them grow and mature over the years and he wondered what they would be like as adults. The only thing that saddened him more than the thought of not being around to see them grow up was the thought that they might never get the chance to.

The doctor's thoughts shifted to the eldest of the Robinson children, Judy, his stalwart defender. He had often manipulated her in order to bring her to his defense and he occasionally had pangs of remorse for doing so. However, he suspected she knew exactly what he was up to and defended him anyway. For that, he was truly grateful.

The family was very subdued that morning. The failure of their escape attempt the night before had dashed many of their hopes. Freedom for them, and life for Doctor Smith, had been in their grasp and then torn away suddenly. It was hard to accept.

The Professor stole a glance at Smith and it was evident the experience in the stockade had taken a toll on the man. The doctor sat with his shoulders uncharacteristically slumped, with what seemed like the weight of at least ten extra years atop them.

As much as the doctor irritated him, and occasionally downright angered him sometimes, the Professor had grown accustomed to Smith and even come to like him in some respects. His family had readily accepted him as one of their own, not despite the doctor's many faults, but because of them. They understood his weaknesses and human frailties. They knew Smith needed them, though he was hesitant to admit it. They could never turn away someone in need and Smith was a prime example.

Since the family had no black sheep to speak of, they had adopted one. Smith had started out cold and calculating, distant and deceitful, but over the years he'd warmed to them, finding his place in the family, and settling in. He was no angel and probably never would be, despite their good influence, but he had somehow won their hearts, especially those of the children. The Professor couldn't fathom how his loss would affect the family, but he knew their pain would be his pain.

Mrs. Robinson was thinking similar thoughts as her husband. The pain her family felt would be hers as well. She had a soft spot for the doctor and it was often at her insistence that John softened his stance against Smith after one of his many misdeeds. Smith seemed to have a soft spot for her as well, frequently flattering her and heaping praise upon her culinary talents. He was sincere, most of the time, and not sycophantic. He respected her and he showed it by calling her "Mrs. Robinson", a formality she enjoyed because it reminded her of her most favorite roles of wife and mother.

She had once said that Doctor Smith was an injustice collector and insisted that injustice collectors could be quite nice when they weren't collecting. Smith hadn't been collecting since he'd arrived there, despite the fact that injustice was being heaped upon him. Instead, he was looking out for her family in whatever way he could. That endeared him to her more than any praise or flattery ever would.

She studied the man as he sat isolated in his cell. He had come a long way since he had been trapped along for their ride. He was not the same man he was in the beginning. She smiled as she thought of the positive influence her family had had on the doctor over the years. He had softened a bit, he had built relationships with them, he had even set aside his constant quest to find a way back to Earth. She mentally laughed at the fact that despite all that, the man still insisted on being a contrarian after all these years. He still found ways to wiggle out of work. He still thoroughly enjoyed antagonizing Major West, though, perhaps, his barbs weren't nearly as sharp as they used to be.

Smith possessed a singularly witty and quirky mind that she found to be endlessly entertaining. He was the spice that livened up the dull and monotonous routine of space travel and survival. She wondered what life would have been like without him along for the ride and she found herself already missing him.

With several grunts and groans, Smith managed to stand up. He stretched his aching muscles and groaned some more. He didn't mind the pain so much, as it reminded him he had survived the arena. Granted, it only gave him two more days, but he'd take what he could get.

Seeing the doctor on his feet, Major West approached. "How are you feeling, Smith?"

It was rare for the Major to express any concern for the doctor's welfare. In a way, it touched Smith just to hear the words. But, where the Major was concerned, he just couldn't help himself. The doctor was feeling ornery enough that if the opportunity presented itself, he'd throw a barb or two the Major's way.

As hungry as he was, Smith couldn't help but throw out a culinary metaphor, "Like a goose that's just been made into Pâté de Foie Gras, Major."

West chuckled at the comparison. "You know, you really handled yourself in the arena yesterday."

Smith rubbed the small lump at the back of his head and an idea formed in his mind. He had no good reason to deny his accomplishments to the Major, since his end was so near, but old habits die hard. He knew the Major was fishing for something... something to skewer him with. So, he prepared his counteroffensive. "Apparently," came Smith's reply, "as I'm still here. I wish I could remember what happened."

West eyed Smith suspiciously. "You mean, you don't remember?"

"I remember I challenged Mal J'hat and he answered with a sucker punch," Smith rubbed his jaw with the memory. "He charged me, tackling me to the ground. I must have struck my head pretty hard on the ground, Major, because everything after that is quite hazy." He turned his head to show West the lump on his head. West barely bothered to look, as he was quite certain the doctor was faking it.

West recalled several of Smith's more competent maneuvers in the arena, which Smith denied remembering.

"Major, if I were in my right mind, do you think I'd even consider doing THAT? I'd just as soon run away."

He had a point, West had to concede. His suspicion started to melt, but he couldn't give up just yet. He complimented Smith on his right cross, to which Smith replied, displaying his bruised knuckles, "So, that's how this happened..."

West started to question Smith again, but was distracted by the female figure that strolled into view. Smith followed the Major's gaze and a grin lit up his face at the sight of Kress.

"Am I interrupting anything?" she asked.

"Major West here was about to ask me a question," Smith prompted. He saw the look on the Major's face and knew their conversation was over, but couldn't help himself.

"Uh, what? Oh, um, no. Are you, uh... here to see Smith?" West asked.

"I just came to let you humans know, everyone has heard about your escape attempt. Those who were in the arena told others how valiantly all of you humans fought. It has inspired many. They also told of how taxed the Asmani resources were during the riot. We may have the numbers to overtake them if we plan wisely. Many more prisoners have pledged to help you, should you make another attempt," Kress said. "We are all wishing you well."

West smiled. "Please thank them for us."

"Yes," Smith added with a melancholy smile. "The Robinsons will need all the help they can get."

Kress realized the doctor would not benefit from the offer of help and it distressed her. She moved toward the forcefield and her hand moved instinctively to touch Smith's face in a gesture of comfort, but caught herself before she was shocked. She locked eyes with Smith and saw pain and fear in them. She wished there was something she could do for him.

Shouts alerted them to the approach of Asmani. Guards arrived quickly and cleared Kress and the Major from the front of Smith's cell. Kress left completely, not wanting to be anywhere near the Asmani. West kept his distance, but stayed close enough to render assistance should Mal J'hat get any ideas.

Mal J'hat grinned wickedly as he approached the doctor. The sight of the smile on his visitor's face irritated Smith to the point of inciting him to do something about it. He would be dead soon. There was nothing more of any consequence his foe could do to him and therefore he had nothing to lose. Mal J'hat had inspired a consuming hate the likes of which the doctor had never felt before. He was going to loose every drop of frustration and anger he held in a torrent against the alien chief. He approached the forcefield slowly, studying his captor.

"What are you doing here?" Smith growled.

"Just making sure you are nice and healthy for your execution," Mal J'hat crowed through his translator.

Smith cocked his head to one side. "That's not why you came here, J'hat," he stated with absolute confidence.

Mal J'hat's brow furrowed, not sure if he was angered more by the doctor's cocky confidence, the fact he had disputed his reasons for being there, or that he had disrespected him by not addressing him by his title.

Smith grinned, knowing he had his adversary's attention. He had seen the alien's mask slip before and behind it he spied a being even more cowardly than himself. "No, you came here to make sure I was still safely contained." Smith held his wrists up, "Why else would you keep these manacles on me when I'm obviously securely contained in here. You are afraid of me, J'hat. If you hadn't had B'tal, if you hadn't had that knife, I would have bested you in the arena, as I bested you in your quarters." Smith saw a look on Mal J'hat's face that seemed to betray the leader's lack of confidence. Smith reveled in the fact he was getting under the tyrant's skin and pushed the alien even harder. "Admit it. You cower at the thought of me outside of this cell, loose to exact whatever revenge I choose. I bet you jump at every unexpected noise, thinking it's me." Smith suppressed a self-satisfied smile as he watched the alien react.

The alien chief scowled and his eyes radiated pure hatred. "I am not afraid of you or any human!" he spat. He glanced behind himself to see the multitude of prisoners milling about. "Or anyone here!" he quickly added.

The doctor raised his hand and gestured with his index finger for Mal J'hat to come closer. The alien, eager to prove his pronouncement, quickly closed the gap between them. He stood nearly nose to nose with the doctor, the forcefield the only barrier between them. Smith's eyes narrowed. He stared Mal J'hat down, unblinking, as his hands slowly wrapped the chains of his shackles taut. In one swift move, Smith shoved the taut chain against the forcefield at neck level to his foe. Blinding sparks flew off the metal links in all directions, with a few electrical arcs licking outwards towards the chief. The maneuver had the desired effect. Mal J'hat jumped backwards, a small cry of surprise escaping his lips.

Smith smiled in satisfaction as he watched the fury build on the chief's face. The brief burst of pain he had to endure was worth seeing the look of terror on Mal J'hat's face. He let the chains between his wrists drop and his features relaxed. "I think my point has been made," he said haughtily. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the wall, waiting for Mal J'hat to make the next move.

Major West, who had been watching the exchange from a distance, close enough to see but too far to hear, was somewhat bewildered by Smith's behavior. He had seen the man show courage that reminded him of the early days of their wayward mission, when the doctor was full of false bravado. The difference being that in those days Smith backed down when confronted. This time, he didn't back down. If anything, he grew more confident. Not only that, he was  _taunting_  the man who was going to execute him! A wry grin tugged at the Major's lips. The man  _did_  have a spine. He just hid it very well, until it was absolutely needed. It was a pity it took a hopeless situation such as this to bring it out. The Major remained captivated, thoroughly entertained by Smith's performance so far. He couldn't help but root for the man to make verbal mincemeat of his captor. Their captor.

"The point," Mal J'hat fumed, "is not if I fear you, though I've made it clear I do not!" He tried to puff himself up, as if his bluster would erase his embarrassing response to Smith's essentially toothless attack. "The point is that you'll be dead soon! None of these little tricks you pull will matter then. You will no longer be a thorn in my side."

Smith was unwilling to concede the fight to that detestable alien, but before he could utter another word, Mal J'hat turned to leave, instructing the rest of his guards to follow with a wave of his hand.

Major West walked over to stand near Smith while the two of them watched Mal J'hat's hasty exit. The doctor sighed heavily. The tone of his voice confirmed his dissatisfaction. "He left too soon. I wasn't done with him yet." Smith's shoulders slumped in discontent.

West chuckled and crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall, mirroring Smith's posture. "That was quite a performance, Smith."

Smith dismissed the comment with a wave. "The man irritates me."

"That was more than just irritation," West observed. "It's not as if you just berated a waiter who brought you the wrong order. You stood eye to eye with the man who strikes fear in just about every prisoner here... and he blinked first." West chuckled.

Smith rolled his eyes. "It doesn't take much bravery to stand up to a coward, Major. And I, of all people, should know cowardice. That dimwitted dictator has never been seriously challenged before. He has others do his dirty work, when he can get away with it. He simply doesn't know how to react to someone who doesn't retreat."

"And you, being the professed coward you are, decided you'd be the one to challenge him?" West asked rhetorically. "It really isn't like you, Smith. What's your game?"

Sighing heavily, the doctor unfolded his arms and stood straight. "It's no game." He could find no good reason to hide his thoughts from his respected sparring partner as he usually did. He knew he had very little time left to talk to him. "I have had plenty of time in this cell," Smith flicked a finger against the forcefield, sending an electronic ripple across its previously placid surface, "to think about a lot of things." Smith crossed his arms again and stared directly into West's eyes. "I am a dead man," he stated solemnly. "There is little you or I can do to change that. I don't think I have to tell you, it scares the hell out of me, Major. However, I can either cower in the corner, which, believe me, I  _have_  given great thought to. Or, I can accept the inevitable and at least enjoy a measure of satisfaction tormenting the hell out of that tinhorn tyrant before I go. Given the fact that he attempted to kill Will twice and is wholly responsible for all of us being here, I find it much easier than I ever thought possible to choose the latter option. I'm done with running, Major. I'm just... done."

The doctor's candor and calm acceptance unnerved West. It simply wasn't the Smith he was used to. West hesitantly reached out to touch the forcefield, wondering how the doctor had managed to shove his manacles into it without so much as a flinch of pain. The shock he received elicited a small yelp and an expletive. He looked quizzically at Smith. A mischievous grin tugged at Smith's lips, but he suppressed it. He knew all too well what Major West was thinking. The doctor softly uttered his well-worn phrase, "Oh, the pain, the pain."

"How did you..." West began to ask. He was interrupted by the doctor.

"Simple, Major. Fear, rage, adrenaline, and a strong desire to scare the living shit out of Mal J'hat."

The Major chuckled at the doctor's admission. "I'd like to do more than scare the living shit out of him, Smith."

"You know, Major, it usually irritates me when we agree on something. This is not one of those times."

...

Major West and the Professor spent some time that afternoon with Kress, who took them around to various prisoners who had pledged help, in order to brainstorm and coordinate some ideas for escape.

When the Major returned he spied the doctor, sitting back against the wall, with something he'd clearly not had in his cell with him earlier.

"Whatcha got there, Smith?" the Major asked.

Smith tried to focus his drunken eyes on the bottle's label. "Sastisi-... Setsisa-... Ssss..." He sat puzzling for a moment, then looked up at the Major. "Booze." He held the bottle to his chest and patted it like a newborn babe.

"Where'd you get it?" West inquired.

"T'pat," Smith answered. "It's good stuff. Excellent vintage. Tuesday, I believe." Smith chuckled.

West stood there, longing to knock back a few stiff belts from the bottle himself. Lord knew he could use them, though not nearly as much as Smith.

Smith seemed to know what was going on in the Major's brain, which wasn't at all unusual, and informed him, "T'pat left you a little present, too. Under your bed. I insisted."

West's eyes lit up and he smiled. He went to his bed and a quick search yielded a bottle, an exact twin to the one Smith held. He jogged back over to Smith and sat down next to him, the forcefield buzzing between them.

"Is it just me or is this thing loouuud?" Smith asked, his hand brushing the electrified field. "Shit!" He shook his shocked hand and nearly toppled the bottle in the process. He panicked as his unsteady hands narrowly avoided spilling the precious liquid all over the cell floor.

The Major laughed at the uncharacteristic expletive. He uncorked the bottle and quickly downed several swallows. "Whew! That's an acquired taste." He looked at the bottle and then to Smith.

"Just wait. It gets better," Smith stated. A small snort escaped him as he mused, "Wish I could say the same about my predicament." He took another swig from his bottle and rested his head back against the wall.

West took a few more swigs, hoping numbness would envelope him soon, as it obviously had the doctor. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, least of all Smith, but the thought of not having him around anymore was tearing him up inside. They rarely saw eye to eye and the doctor frequently drove him crazy, but they understood each other. Smith probably understood him better than anyone. He was the perfect sparring partner to loose his frustrations on, ease his boredom with, and keep him on his toes. And Smith gave as good as he got, a worthy adversary... and a friend.

Smith set his bottle to the side and stood, stumbling a bit, but righting himself. He grinned wickedly and then proceeded to make a series of gestures, some of which required a little more balance than he could muster.

"What are you doing?" West asked before taking several more swallows from his bottle. He set his own bottle down, stood, and found he had to steady himself against the wall.  _Phew, that stuff works fast._  He chuckled.

Smith pointed toward the ceiling in the corner. West could make out a small camera-like device, which no doubt was keeping tabs on their most "dangerous" prisoner. "I'm giving them a piece of my mind, Major."

"Huh?"

"Here. I'll translate," Smith laughed. "In Asmani." He repeated the first gesture he had done. "In English." He repeated the rude, but familiar equivalent.

The Major stared wide eyed at the doctor for a second and then burst out laughing. "Where did you learn  _that_?"

"I make it a point, Major, to always broaden my cultural horizons. If there's one thing I've found that's universal among the cultures here, it's obscene gestures and the direction of them toward Mal J'hat behind his back." Smith laughed. "I've had quite a few teachers of late."

Smith turned back to the camera and flashed another gesture. "This one's Utak." Then he flashed the equivalent gesture to translate for the Major's benefit.

West laughed so hard he snorted and stumbled toward the doctor, narrowly avoiding running into the forcefield. He then stood by the doctor's side, looking up at the camera. "Wait, wait. My turn." He flew through a litany of Earth's well known obscene gestures.

"Slow down. I have to translate." Smith's hands and arms gesticulated wildly, translating the Major's movements into Asmani and other alien equivalents. West watched and doubled over in laughter. Some of the alien gestures were quite comical, especially when flashed by a normally quite proper but totally plastered Doctor Smith. Smith started laughing and bent over, hands on his knees. He slowly sat down, breathing heavily from the laughter and the exertion. "Major, I must rest. Telling Mal J'hat what he can do with himself is hard work." Smith threw one more Earth gesture toward the camera before he lay on his back, spread eagle, his body still spasming from laughter.

The Major was already lying on the floor hardly able to breathe from laughing at Smith's performance. Smith and the Major looked at each other, which only sent them into fresh fits of laughter.

The Robinsons, meanwhile, were observing the whole sordid spectacle and finding it hard not to laugh themselves. The Professor and Mrs. Robinson were a bit dismayed at their choice of comic fodder with the children present nearby, but given the circumstances, it somehow appropriately expressed everyone's sentiments. It was much needed comic relief in the middle of one of their darkest hours.

Smith tilted his head to the side to look at West and the two locked eyes again. "It's a good thing I won't need my liver after tomorrow," Smith mused. "Though, you could be in for some trouble, Major."

West laughed and then admitted, "God, I'm gonna miss you."

Their smiles faded as the sobering truth of what tomorrow would bring hit them both. Smith broke eye contact first, staring up at the ceiling, refusing to acknowledge what the Major had just said. That suited the Major just fine, as he stared up at the ceiling above him. A part of him wished he'd never said it. He knew he'd never have said it while sober.

A few awkward moments of silence passed before Smith uttered something in an obviously alien language that sounded like it could be Asmani.

West propped himself up on an elbow and asked, "What's that mean?"

The doctor turned onto his side. He whispered the translation and they started laughing again. Both men crawled back to their bottles and sat next to each other, their backs to the wall.

They nursed the rest of the alien liquor into the wee hours, spending their time talking and laughing raucously. Only a few times did the two end up at odds over their chosen topic of conversation.

One of the major bones of contention that cropped up was Smith's stint in the Air Force. West, in his drunken state, continued to insist, as he had in an earlier conversation, Smith hadn't come by his rank or awards honestly. Smith took one last healthy swig from his bottle, threw his head back, and closed his eyes, imagining his uniform. He pointed with his right index finger to some random spot on the left side of his chest. "You know, I had a good conduct ribbon, right there. I earned that one..."

Before Smith could continue, West interrupted. "You? Good conduct?" He laughed heartily, then drained the rest of the alcohol from his bottle.

"Bah!" Smith exclaimed, too drunk to come up with a witty retort.

Unfazed, the doctor continued pointing randomly to spots on his chest, describing the award and how he'd earned it. The Major listened as Smith droned on and on, unsure if he quite believed what he was hearing, not that he'd ever remember it later. He started to lose interest until Smith mentioned his purple heart. West listened intently to Smith's description of the harrowing adventure that had earned him the medal and his brow furrowed. His drunken mind mulled over the facts as presented and tried to determine if the doctor could actually have done what he described. As his mind pondered, he yawned mightily and heavy eyelids began to droop in response to the rich, baritone timbre of the doctor's voice.

Eventually, their bottles empty and their bodies exhausted, the two of them passed out.


	16. It's All In The Execution

There were just hours before the scheduled execution and Smith sat quietly in thought in his cell. Mrs. Robinson walked over and sat next to the forcefield, prepared to offer some companionship or a sympathetic ear.

"Doctor Smith?" Mrs. Robinson said softly. "Would you like some company?"

Her voice broke Smith from his reverie and he turned to regard her. "Yes, my dear lady. I appreciate the gesture. However, I can't promise I will be much company in return."

"That's understandable," she stated.

Smith went back to staring at a spot on the wall his gaze had already burned a hole through in the past hour, glad to at least have someone supportive near.

"Would you like to talk about anything?" Mrs. Robinson prodded.

Smith started to say something, but abruptly closed his mouth. He sighed and then started to say something else, again closing his mouth before he could begin.

"Mrs. Robinson, there is plenty I would like to say, but I'm finding it difficult. I simply don't have the courage or the will to express my thoughts at the moment," he confessed. "By the time I find them, I fear it will be too late."

"Just take it a little at a time then," she encouraged. "You can tell me."

Smith's gaze turned back to Mrs. Robinson. "You have always been an understanding and sympathetic ear, very easy to talk to. That hasn't gone unappreciated all these years," Smith confessed. Mrs. Robinson smiled in response to the compliment. "As you can imagine," he continued, "I've had plenty of time for contemplation lately." His gaze went back to the wall. "I've come to at least one conclusion about the last few years of my life."

"And what's that?" she asked.

"I've been handed a curse and a blessing," Smith replied.

"How so?" she asked, intrigued.

Gaze still riveted to the wall, he explained, "I was cursed the moment I was trapped aboard the Jupiter 2. I was cursed to end up here. I was cursed to have to endure hardship and challenge in the many years in between. But..." He turned to look at Mrs. Robinson once more and hesitated a moment before he finally admitted, "I was blessed to endure it all with a family named Robinson."

Mrs. Robinson smiled, touched by the doctor's sentiment. "Oh, Doctor Smith," she said quietly.

"It's true, madame," Smith insisted.

"Well," Mrs. Robinson replied, "I can't say we've exactly been blessed by your presence, Doctor Smith..."

Smith chuckled softly at the honest assessment.

"...but, you have brought a measure of adventure and entertainment to our lives." She smiled. "We'll miss you."

Smith grew quiet and simply nodded in affirmation. The two talked a little while longer until Smith admitted he would like to be alone. Mrs. Robinson understood and gave the doctor some space.

...

Smith stared out of the transparent wall of his cell, watching for the guards that would come for him soon. The Major and the Professor stood nearby, keeping their own silent watch. A low murmur traveling through the cavernous room alerted Smith to the guards' approach. When he finally spotted them, the icy hand of fear gripped his heart and a rush of adrenaline through his veins signaled his body to flee the impending danger. But, he had nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

As the guards approached, Smith looked to his young friend Will. Fear and concern were etched into the boy's face. He looked to the others, one by one, and saw the same emotions evident on their faces as well. Knowing that fear and concern was for him, he swallowed hard and straightened himself to his full height, determined that his last moments, the ones his friends would most likely remember him by, would be dignified, no matter how much intestinal fortitude he had to muster.

Despite his resolve to combat the coward within, he trembled noticeably. One of the guards lowered the forcefield that imprisoned the doctor and two others flanked him, each grabbing an arm to pull him along when he would inevitably resist like all the others. Smith briefly looked into the dispassionate faces of the two guards, then straight ahead, focusing on some distant point to keep himself from looking to the Robinsons, which he knew would cause him to break down.

A dozen guards or more fought back the attempts of the other prisoners to interfere with the plans to execute the human doctor. Another pair of guards gathered together the Robinsons and Major West, explaining that Mal J'hat requested their presence at the execution. As distasteful as the thought was to them, they followed along in the solemn procession, determined that their friend would not die alone among strange aliens. The guards chained them together and surrounded them to keep them from attempting something foolish in an attempt to save their friend.

Though he didn't resist as many others had before, his legs did give out once or twice during the lengthy walk. When they arrived at the execution chamber, Smith balked at the threshold to the door, leaning all his weight backwards and refusing to enter. A guard shoved him inside and locked the door. Smith looked around the room, terrified, his mind barely comprehending his surroundings as his heart raced.

Beyond the large glass windows of the room, Smith could see the Robinsons being seated in the first row of what appeared to be bleachers, each of them chained to a railing that ran in front of the bleachers, to prevent trouble. The Professor and the Major each tested the strength of their bindings. West wrenched and pulled so hard that the manacles bit into his wrists. Both found they were truly helpless to do anything and slumped into their seats. Farther up, Smith caught a glimpse of the smiling visage of Mal J'hat himself. If he could form a coherent thought at that moment, it would probably have been disgust for his alien captor's gruesome form of entertainment.

Smith's head whipped around quickly when he heard the door of the chamber open. His eyebrows rose in surprise, but then furrowed in confusion and anger. It was M'jek and he was carrying a bag which he set on a nearby table. The alien physician walked over to Smith and placed his hands on the trembling doctor's shoulders. "I am sorry, my friend. I was unable to convince Mal J'hat to spare your life, but I did persuade him to allow a more humane method of execution. I am here to administer the drugs that will painlessly end your life."

"I suppose I should thank you," Smith somehow managed to reply. "But since I shall end up dead in either circumstance, I'm not quite sure what there is to thank you for."

M'jek nodded solemnly, understanding the human doctor's reasoning. "If you cannot thank me, I hope you will at least forgive me, my friend, for it is a duty I do not wish to perform."

Smith stared into the alien's eyes. He saw sincerity. He saw sadness. He saw a glimpse of something else, but he was unsure what. He had no doubt M'jek meant what he said and nodded in affirmation that the doctor was forgiven.

"I will give you a few minutes... to say goodbye," M'jek motioned towards the Robinsons.

Smith turned to look out the window at the seats where the only people who mattered in his life sat. Slowly he walked towards the glass, not wanting to say goodbye, but knowing he had to.

He went first to those he felt closest to, the children. He placed both of his hands against the glass and bent down to face them eye to eye. Will and Penny each placed their smaller hands against the glass opposite to his, tears already streaming down their faces.

"William... Penny... This is difficult for me," Smith admitted. The children nodded in understanding. "I know I have said it before, but I truly do mean it. I have come to view you two as my own. I regret I will not be able to see you grow into the handsome man and beautiful woman I know you will become."  _If you survive this place_ , came the unbidden thought.

Penny started to sob and Will put his arm around her, his own face tracked with tears.

"Shhh... Shhh... My dear, it will be ok." Smith's voice caught in his throat and he bowed his head to fight his own tears that were threatening to fall. He composed himself and began again. "I hope you will think of me on occasion and when you do, think of me kindly. Remember all the good times we had together."

Will and Penny both vowed to do just that.

"Goodbye, my sweet Penny." He kissed his hand and placed it back against hers on the glass. "Goodbye, dear William." Again, he kissed his hand and placed it back against Will's on the glass. "Mind your parents," he added, acknowledging his days of overseeing the childrens' activities were over.

The others couldn't help but be touched by Smith's farewell to the children. Major West shifted uncomfortably with the heavy emotion that seemed to hang in the air and wrapped an arm around Judy's waist to calm himself. Even M'jek was affected by the scene. He turned his back to it and readied his tools for the task before him.

Both children croaked out a barely audible goodbye. Smith lingered a moment more, memorizing their faces. Then, he stood and wiped his eyes with his sleeve.

The children went to their mother and held her tight, seeking comfort from the loss they were about to experience. John Robinson stood next to Maureen, one arm tightly around her.

Smith moved to address John and Maureen, but found it difficult to look them in the eye. If it wasn't for his actions over the years, the family might safely be at their intended destination instead of being captive of an alien species, possibly doomed to die just as he was about to.

When he finally worked up the courage to look them in the eye, all he could think to say was a whispered, "Forgive me." He had no time to elaborate and no need. The Robinsons were no fools and he was sure they knew of all his transgressions towards them. Even if they hadn't suspected him of sabotaging the Jupiter 2, he'd certainly caused them enough trouble in other ways. Maureen dabbed a tear from her eye and looked to her husband. They both looked back at Smith and nodded. Smith seemed to exhale in relief and looked as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He simply nodded back appreciatively, as his voice briefly failed him.

Maureen put her hand on the glass, as the children had done. John followed suit. Smith placed his hands against theirs and they said their quiet goodbyes.

Again, Smith wiped his eyes with a sleeve and moved on toward Judy. "My dear Judy... You are the kindest soul I know, coming to my aid, even when, perhaps, I didn't always deserve it. Mere words cannot express my appreciation for your kindness."

Judy put a hand to her mouth as tears flowed freely down her face. "Doctor Smith, I'm going to miss you," she managed to say, her voice trembling.

A melancholy smile appeared briefly on Smith's face. He glanced at West, "I'm not sure what she sees in you, but you're a lucky man, Major."

Judy tried to smile at the doctor's last barb, but her smile was quickly replaced by tears. West placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. She put her hand to the glass and said goodbye. Smith put his hand to hers, no longer bothering to hide or wipe away the tears on his face.

Smith looked at Major West. He leaned close to the glass and whispered four solemn words, "Take care of them." Then, he turned to face his final moments.

From behind him he heard, "Is that an order, sir?"

Confused, he turned and looked at the Major again. "What?"

"Is that an order... Colonel?" West snapped his hand to his brow in a crisp salute and held it.

Smith was shaken as he read the Major's face and recognized the gesture as a genuine display of respect.

"That's an order, Major," Smith confirmed in quavering, but commanding baritone. He brought a trembling hand to his brow and snapped it downward, ending the salute. The Major did likewise and put his hand to the glass. Smith walked back toward the glass and touched it briefly. "Farewell, Major."

"Goodbye... Doctor Smith."

The doctor turned again and walked back toward the table where M'jek was waiting. M'jek directed him to lay down and he reluctantly did so, his gaze locked on his family. The alien doctor explained what he was going to do and how the drugs would work.

Smith looked at M'jek, nodded, and interrupted, "I know the procedure, doctor."

M'jek and his assistants then attempted to secure restraints on Smith's arms, legs, and chest. Smith knew it was futile, but panic overcame him and he resisted anyway. Once secured, he realized he couldn't fight back if he wanted to, not that it would do any good. He pulled hard against the restraints and finding no give to them, he lay his head down on the table and closed his eyes to the stinging tears starting to form. His heart beat wildly in his chest.

As M'jek hooked up a heart monitor and started the IV lines, brief snippets of memories surfaced and played through Smith's mind. Some were from early childhood, others from his life on Earth, but the most cherished of them were of life with his adoptive family, the Robinsons.

M'jek announced he was going to inject the first drug. Smith turned his head and looked at his family. He saw grief on their faces that mirrored the grief in his own heart. The Robinsons bowed their heads briefly, as if in prayer. Tears dripped sideways across Smith's face and onto the table beneath him. Doctor Smith had tasted many failures in his life, but this was the most bitter of them all. He had come there intent on freeing them and never even came close. He felt the drug start to take effect and he struggled to keep his eyes open. He wanted one last glance at his family before he left them. He quickly lost the struggle. As his eyes shut, a fresh round of tears welled up in the eyes of those who loved him.

M'jek announced he was going to inject the last drug. Shortly afterward, a shrill sound from the monitors signaled that life had left the doctor's body. M'jek checked for a pulse and looked up into the audience at Mal J'hat. He nodded solemnly and began to remove the monitors and IVs.

It was over so suddenly, in a matter of minutes. The Robinsons and Major West sat in shock and grief. They watched as M'jek and his assistants removed the restraints, lifted Doctor Smith's limp body, and rested it reverently on a gurney. M'jek draped a sheet over the body and briefly rested a hand on the doctor's chest. He then signaled for his assistants to move the body to a small, windowless room adjoining the chamber.

Mal J'hat smiled as he and his entourage came down to the chamber and entered the adjoining room. Mal J'hat leaned over Smith's body and placed his hand on the human doctor's chest. He held it there for several seconds and then placed his ear there as well. Satisfied Smith was truly dead, he nodded to M'jek in acknowledgment. As he entered the execution chamber again, he looked at the humans and smiled wickedly. He pointed at the Major, as if to say "you're next". The Professor and the Major strained against their chains, angry, defiant, and eager to get their hands on Mal J'hat. Mal J'hat laughed as he turned and left.

M'jek walked over to the Robinsons. "I'm sorry," he apologized. "I had grown fond of him. He will be missed."

"Then why did you kill him?" Major West growled, pulling instinctively on the chains that bound him in place.

"I did not enjoy this, Major West. It was simply best this way," M'jek replied calmly. "If Mal J'hat had had his wish, it would have been a prolonged and painful death. I hope you will realize this and forgive me as Doctor Smith did."

West was about to wind himself up for a fight, but Judy calmed him.

Ever the diplomat, John Robinson replied, "We understand. Thank you for sparing him that."

M'jek nodded and with another apology, went back to the room where they had taken Doctor Smith.

...

"Zachary?"

"Zachary, darling?"

Smith had the vague awareness of people calling his name. They were familiar voices, but voices he hadn't heard in years. He sat up and opened his eyes, only to have to shield them from a blinding white light. Slowly, the light dimmed enough that he could see who was calling him. There, in the corner of the small room, stood his mother and his great aunt.

"Mother? Aunt Maude? What... what are you doing here?" Smith looked around the room. It was then that he saw his own body laying on the table. "I'm dead." He looked up at them again. "I'm dead, aren't I?"

They both nodded in unison. Then his mother spoke. "Zachary... son... you need to come with us."

A sense of peace enveloped him and he found himself drawn toward his dearly departed kin. He took a few steps, but then remembered his  _other_  family. He turned and walked the short distance through the wall into the execution chamber. His mother and aunt followed him. He saw his adoptive family still there. M'jek was talking with them. The children were clinging to their mother, tears streaming down their faces.

"They'll be fine," his aunt Maude assured.

Ignoring his mother's pleas, Smith strode over to the Robinsons and Major West. He knelt in front of the children, trying to reassure them he was okay, but they couldn't hear him.

"Zachary... please, son, come with us," Smith's mother implored.

"I can't," he replied, unable to take his eyes off the children. "I came here to help them."

"You don't have a choice, Zachary," aunt Maude insisted. "Your old life is over. It's time to move on. Come with us."

Smith stood and turned back to his mother and his aunt. Despite his desire to deny the truth, he knew his aunt was right. They beckoned to him and held their arms open to receive him. Smith looked over his shoulder once more, brow furrowed in sorrow and concern. He didn't want to leave them, but he knew he had to. He smiled sadly at the Robinsons and Major West, turned back to his waiting family members, and walked into the light.


	17. Second Chances

When M'jek returned to the room adjoining the execution chamber, his assistants were busy removing equipment from the doctor's medical bag and preparing several hypodermic needles. One assistant had already placed a crescent shaped device on Smith's forehead. M'jek tapped a few buttons on the device and satisfied it was working correctly, grabbed the next piece of equipment. He secured a device containing a breathing mask over Smith's nose and mouth, punched a few buttons on it and it activated with a hiss. An assistant then handed M'jek a discus shaped device, which he placed on Smith's chest. He slid his hand across a panel on the top and checked the settings. He tapped another button on the device on Smith's forehead and then checked the discus-shaped device on his chest again. The lights on the discus had lit up, indicating a heart rhythm had been established, though it was erratic. M'jek verified his assistants were clear of the doctor's body and then tapped a button on the discus. Smith's body jerked and lights on the discus began to pulse in sync with his heart beat. Satisfied the circulation in Smith's body had been properly re-established, M'jek requested from an assistant a series of hypodermic needles, which he injected into Smith.

M'jek watched over the human doctor for about a minute and satisfied his patient was stable, covered Smith's body in the sheet again for transport to the sick bay. As they left the small room and the execution chamber with Smith's body, M'jek spared a glance at the humans again as they were being unchained and led back to the stockade. Each of the humans stared at the gurney as it disappeared into the corridor and out of view.

...

When the Robinsons and West arrived back at the stockade, the mood was very subdued. Many aliens, and even guards, offered their condolences to the humans, while others respectfully left them alone in their grief. It was clear, however, that very few of the prisoners were untouched by the doctor's fate, even though the death of a prisoner was a fairly common occurrence there. The Robinsons and Major West trudged back to their camp completely numb. The sight of the boxes of unused medical supplies and Smith's empty cell only reminded them of their loss and fresh tears fell.

Major West let loose his frustration and grief on an errant box, kicking it with all his might. It sailed in a long arc, bouncing off the wall at an angle and sliding to stop inside Smith's former cell. Judy came up behind him and put a supportive hand on his shoulder, which he instinctively wanted to shrug off, but didn't for her sake. He turned to face her and she buried her face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his head against hers.

Will and Penny laid down in their respective beds and sobbed gently, while their parents sat quietly next to each other on a nearby bed. Mrs. Robinson dabbed away her tears with a small kerchief before they threatened to fall. The Professor hugged her to his chest and rested his chin atop her head.

The inhabitants of the Jupiter 2 had been through many harrowing adventures together and many close calls. One thing they hadn't yet experienced was the death of one of their own, until now.

...

M'jek sat at his desk, preparing a report on Smith's execution for Mal J'hat. One of his assistants interrupted him, informing him Smith needed tending to. The two of them walked to the doctor's bedside in the sick bay adjoining the doctor's quarters.

"I think he's regaining consciousness, sir," the assistant said.

M'jek checked Smith's vital signs and waited.

Smith stirred and his eyes fluttered open. A look of confusion washed across his face. He recognized his surroundings as the alien complex he had been imprisoned in. "Oh, great. I'm in hell," he muttered. When M'jek laughed, Smith turned his head to see the alien doctor sitting next to him. His brow furrowed and he tossed aside his initial assessment. "I'm... alive. Why am I alive?"

M'jek laughed. "Because Mal J'hat is an idiot."

Smith's eyebrows raised and the answer dawned on him. "You deceived Mal J'hat. You didn't execute me."

"Oh, you were quite dead, doctor. But, Mal J'hat made the mistake of trusting me to carry out his wishes," M'jek explained. "After he verified you were dead, I resuscitated you."

Smith closed his eyes and swallowed hard. When he opened them again, he offered sincere gratitude. "Thank you... my friend. Although, you could have let me in on it all. I very well could have succumbed to cardiac arrest."

"You're welcome," M'jek offered. "And, technically, you  _did_  succumb to cardiac arrest." Seeing the pained look on Smith's face, the alien doctor laughed. "I am sure you could have pulled it off, had you known what I had planned, but the best performance is always the most genuine. I'm sorry you had to go through that," he apologized.

Smith smiled. "Believe me, my dear sir, for a second chance at life, it was worth it."

"I couldn't very well let a man with your talents slip through our fingers," M'jek explained.

_Ah, there's the rub_ , Smith thought. His eyes narrowed as he regarded the alien. "And here I thought your motives were altruistic, doctor. Am I to understand you wish to know if this gesture has changed my mind with regards to helping you?"

"You are correct," M'jek confirmed. "What better agent to have working for us than a dead man? No one will suspect _you_."

Smith laughed. "I suppose I cannot argue with that logic. I'm at your disposal, sir. No one would like revenge against that terrible tyrant more than I."

"Good," M'jek stated. "T'pat has already secured a guard's uniform for you to wear." M'jek walked to a nearby cabinet and removed the uniform from a drawer. He grabbed the black helmet sitting on his desk and went to Smith's bedside.

Smith sat up, regarded the uniform, and quipped, "Black was always my color." He accepted the uniform and fingered the material. He looked up at M'jek, a question clearly on his mind. "The Robinsons?"

"They think you're dead," M'jek said apologetically. "And it will have to remain that way."

Smith nodded solemnly. "Understood." It pained him to have to keep his survival concealed from the Robinsons, especially the children. He knew their reunion, should he be successful, would be sweet and he consoled himself with that. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and grunted in pain, bringing a hand to his left side.

M'jek placed the helmet on the bed next to Smith. He went to his cabinet and removed a small vial and a syringe. He filled the needle, grabbed what appeared to be an alcohol swab, and sat next to Smith.

"What's that?" Smith asked, curious.

"A rather potent painkiller, courtesy of some of our prisoners," M'jek explained as he rolled up Smith's sleeve and swabbed the injection site.

Smith began to question what that meant when M'jek injected the drug. He immediately felt it begin to work and within seconds, the pain in his side was gone. All his pain was gone, and with it, the question he had on his mind.

M'jek smiled at the astonished look on Smith's face. "I said it was potent stuff."

"That you did," Smith replied. He began to breathe easier and straightened his back.

"I'll do something about those ribs a little later. For now, I thought it would be best if we got down to business," M'jek replied.

"Right," Smith began. "What resources do we have available?"

"Resources?" M'jek asked, confused.

"Intel?" Smith paused for an answer. When none was forthcoming, he continued. "Weapons? Explosives? A plan?"

M'jek shook his head slowly.

"Trusted allies?" Smith asked, eyebrows raised hopefully.

"Yes," M'jek finally answered. "The Grand Master of the high council and two other members. T'pat knows a handful of guards who sympathize with our cause and are trustworthy. My assistants, of course. And a few civilians I know of."

"That's it?" Smith queried. "I can see why you need me," he muttered.

The look on M'jek's face was pleading for Smith to take charge and do something. Relying on skills long dormant, Smith formulated a plan of attack.

"Ok, to start, I will need access to the computer system... with English translations so I can understand what I'm looking at."

"We can do that," M'jek confirmed.

"I'll need parts to repair the Robot," Smith added. "His talents may be required."

"We may not have the parts you need, but I'll ask T'pat about having them replicated."

"I'll need to find a way around the security systems in the Armory," Smith thought aloud. "As I mentioned, we'll need weapons and explosives."

"Explosives?" M'jek inquired. "Are you sure?"

"It was my understanding that one of your goals was destruction of this facility," Smith reminded the doctor. "I'm sure the prisoners would gladly take shovels and pickaxes to the place, but I guarantee you that explosives would be much faster."

"Of course," M'jek agreed. "I don't have much experience in such matters."

Smith bit back a sarcastic remark about the obvious accuracy of that statement and continued issuing a list of resources he'd require.

"There is another matter," Smith placed a hand gently on his stomach, "that shall require strict attention before we can begin with any of this other business."

"And what is that?" M'jek inquired.

"I shall require a hot meal, as well as a hot bath," Smith answered. "As you might imagine, being dead has taken quite a lot out of me," he laughed. "I'm simply famished."

"Of course," M'jek replied. "Forgive me. Those needs should have been tended to immediately."

"No harm done."

...

Half an hour later, Smith emerged from the bathroom clean shaven and tucking a black t-shirt into the waistband of his new uniform pants. Passing a mirror, he admired himself, in profile. "Well, Zachary, you look to be in pretty good health for a dead man."

T'pat laughed. "That you do, doctor."

"T'pat," Smith greeted with a nod. "Come to strategize with us?"

"That and..." the guard held up a plate of food that had been resting on the table.

Smith's eyes lit up and he half-jogged to the table to take a seat in front of the hot plate of food. He inhaled deeply. "Smells delicious," he remarked before shoveling a healthy forkful into his mouth. In between bites, Smith spouted such adjectives as "sublime", "divine", and "exquisite", entirely consumed in enjoying the first real food he'd had in weeks.

T'pat and M'jek looked at each other, smiling broadly at the doctor's indulgence of the simple meal. They were so enthralled at the spectacle that they neglected their own plates before them.

After polishing off the last forkful from his plate, Smith pointed at M'jek's plate. "You going to finish that?"

M'jek looked at his plate, smiled, and pushed it towards the ravenous doctor. With a nod of thanks and a smile, Smith dug into the food with abandon. He quickly finished the second plate, pushed it away from him, and sat back, his hand patting a full and satiated stomach.

"T'pat," Smith leaned back in the chair and laced his fingers together over his midsection. "I imagine M'jek has apprised you of the resources I require."

"Yes, doctor. He has," T'pat confirmed. "I believe I can procure a small replicating unit for you in order to replace some of your Robot's damaged parts. Weapons may be trickier. Explosives will be impossible."

"The word impossible is not in my dictionary," Smith answered. "I  _will_  find a way and  _you_  are going to help me."

Though the guard couldn't fathom a way the doctor could possibly crack the armory's security, he smiled at Smith's boast.

"About this replicating unit," Smith sat up straight, his mind shifting focus. "Have you ever used it to replace electronic components? Some of the Robot's parts are quite intricate."

"Well, no," T'pat replied. "But we've used it for just about everything else. I imagine it would work just as well for electronics."

"What if it doesn't?" Smith asked. "Would we be able to procure parts from the Jupiter 2 without being questioned?"

"Yes. We could take some hover bikes to your ship and get whatever you need," T'pat confirmed.

"Hover bikes?" a single eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"Vehicles that hover over the ground, rather than traveling over it with wheels," T'pat explained.

A wide grin spread across the doctor's face.

"What?" T'pat asked.

"The spark of an idea," Smith replied, "but all in good time. First, we must repair the Robot."


	18. Means To An End

Later the same evening, after a bit of rest, Smith requested to see the Robot. M'jek and T'pat directed him to the medical storage room in the back. After a quick assessment, the doctor was relieved to see that the damage was not as severe as he initially believed. He requested tools and quickly got to work removing the damaged wiring and components.

T'pat brought in a portable replicator unit and they attempted to replicate a couple of the Robot's components. After thoroughly testing the replicated parts, Smith deemed them suitable and installed them. In a few short hours, the Robot was working again.

As soon as Smith replaced the power pack, the Robot's bubble popped up and his arms extended, intending to defend himself. Seeing Doctor Smith, he quickly realized there was no danger.

"Doctor Smith. I am glad to see you are unharmed. My receivers had intercepted communications saying you were to be executed."

"I  _was_  executed," Smith said with a smirk.

"That does not compute," the Robot responded. "All my sensors seem to be in working order and confirm you have healthy life signs."

Smith patted the Robot's metallic hide. "Merely a ruse, my mechanical friend. Mal J'hat thinks I'm dead."

"And the Robinsons?"

"Safe, for now," Smith responded.

"Do they also think you're dead?" the Robot inquired.

"Only you, M'jek, his assistants, and T'pat know I'm alive. It must stay that way if I, and the Robinsons, are to survive this ordeal. I shall require your invaluable assistance to effect our escape," Smith explained.

"I will serve my family in whatever capacity is needed," the Robot confirmed.

"Good, because I have plans for you, my silver sidekick."

From the tone of Smith's voice and the look in his eye, the Robot got the distinct feeling that he might not like whatever plans were currently brewing in the good doctor's brain. Before the Robot could question him, Smith got busy familiarizing the Robot with the information he had already gleaned about the complex and security measures. He gave a broad overview of his plan and explained he'd need the Robot's computing and cryptographic abilities for specific parts of the plan. That put the Robot's processors somewhat at ease, but he couldn't help but feel that Smith wasn't telling him something. T'pat seemed to sense this as well, but didn't question it. He assumed they'd be told in due time.

...

The Robinsons and Major West ate their evening rations quietly, with the exception of Will, who sat by himself near Smith's former cell. He had missed the last two meals and rarely budged from his current spot. Everyone cast a worried glance at him, but no one said anything.

When Mrs. Robinson had finished her meal, she brought Will's untouched rations over to him and sat next to him.

"I'm not hungry," he mumbled, not bothering to look at her.

"I know you miss him," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. Will turned away from her and seemed to curl in on himself. She stroked his hair gently. "We all do. But, you have to eat. You need to keep your strength up."

Will stayed silent. She pulled him toward her and embraced him, which he reluctantly accepted. "Doctor Smith went to a lot of trouble to make sure you were safe, Will. In fact," she lowered her voice to a whisper, "I'm pretty sure he got himself captured on purpose, just to make sure you got the medical care you needed."

Will nodded. He and Don had discussed those very same suspicions.

"He'd want you to stay strong and get out of this place," she stated. "I can't think of a better way to honor his memory, can you?"

Will shook his head and buried his face into his mother's neck. The two embraced for a few moments before she pulled back to look at her son. "Think you can eat something?" She held out his rations to him.

He nodded and hesitantly began to eat.

She put a hand to his face and smiled. "Would you like to eat alone or do you want some company?"

"Some company. Please."

Mrs. Robinson stayed with Will as he finished off his meal. When he was done, the two sat side by side for quite some time. Will seemed to settle down as he drew quiet comfort from his mother.

...

"T'pat, I'd like you to show me these hover bikes you mentioned," Smith requested.

"For what purpose?" T'pat inquired.

"To see if they're suitable."

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" T'pat frowned.

"Not yet," Smith smiled. "If they'll work for my purposes, I'll let you know what I have in mind."

Smith's secrecy irritated T'pat, but he realized the man wouldn't be very effective at sabotage and espionage if he wasn't good at keeping secrets.

"Alright, suit up," T'pat replied.

Smith shrugged on his black leather-like uniform jacket, zipped it, and donned his helmet. He slid the dark visor down to cover his face, pulled on a pair of gloves, and secured a communications device T'pat handed him around his left forearm.

"To activate the translator, hit this button on the side of the helmet," T'pat demonstrated. "Hit it again to deactivate. You'll probably want to keep it active most of the time."

Smith activated his translator and secured the holster T'pat gave him around his waist.

"Let's go."

Smith followed T'pat as they wound their way through the maze of corridors to the Asmani equivalent of a motor pool. T'pat showed Smith the different types of hover bikes available, from simple scout vehicles to larger two-person versions.

The doctor studied the two-person hover bike with a critical eye. The seat arrangement was such that driver and passenger sat side by side. "Seems wide enough," he mumbled. "How do you start it up?"

T'pat reached toward the steering mechanism and pushed a button. The bike began to hum and levitate off the ground.

"Excellent," Smith grinned. Carefully, he climbed aboard. Then, much to T'pat's surprise, the doctor stood on the seats, took a wide stance and began to shift his weight, rocking the bike back and forth.

"What are you doing?" the guard inquired.

Smith ignored him and continued his evaluation. "Seems stable enough. Good clearance." He jumped up and down a few times and observed how the bike responded. "Yes. I think this will do nicely." Smith put a hand on T'pat's shoulder to steady himself as he jumped off the bike.

"C'mon, let's get back," Smith said, not bothering to wait for T'pat to follow.

T'pat shook his head and jogged to catch up to the doctor. "Are you going to tell me what you're up to?"

"I'll tell you later," Smith whispered. "These walls have ears."

T'pat looked at Smith, puzzled. Then his gaze, concealed by his dark visor, darted around the area, quickly spotting someone in the distance who was keeping a close eye on the two of them. "How did you spot him?" T'pat whispered.

Smith turned his head toward T'pat, his tone deadly serious, "It's what I do." He continued walking along, as if those four words had explained everything.

T'pat lagged behind, lost in thought and feeling very much like a student realizing he had quite a bit to learn.

...

When Smith and T'pat had returned to the safety of M'jek's quarters, T'pat wasted no time questioning the doctor.

"Ok, now do you mind telling me what that was all about?"

Smith pulled his helmet off and placed it on M'jek's desk. He pulled off his gloves and ran a hand through his hair. "I have been trying to devise a way for the Robot to get past the security measures in the armory, specifically... the pressure plates," Smith explained.

T'pat stared at Smith a moment and then a look of understanding dawned on his face. "Oh.. no. You don't mean... You're crazy!" T'pat exclaimed.

"I have another word for it," Smith replied.

"What's that?" the guard asked.

"Brilliant!" Smith crowed. "The Robot's upper half can be separated from the treads. We just secure his top to that two-person hover bike and float him right through. Problem solved."

T'pat shook his head. Then his brow furrowed for a moment. He looked at Smith and his eyebrows raised a bit. "You know, that might actually work. But... how do we get him to the armory without being seen?"

"Very carefully," Smith replied. "We shall require the assistance of one of your trusted fellow guards. I will detail that plan later. First, I must prepare the Robot for his task." Without further discussion, the doctor went straight to working on the problem of decrypting the pass codes to the armory.

M'jek and T'pat watched Smith work. "Well?" M'jek asked, the simple word holding much more question behind it.

"He's good, M'jek," T'pat replied. "We have a chance. A good chance."

...

Finding West alone, the Professor went to talk privately to him.

"Don, I know this is probably a little too soon after..." the Professor's voice trailed off and he paused for a moment. "We do need to start putting our escape plans into action."

The Major nodded. "It  _is_  too soon, but I imagine waiting can only hurt our chances."

"Ok then, we'll inform our allies that our little 're-enactment' of the arena riot will happen right here, in three days. That should give us plenty of time to make sure everybody knows and is ready. It'll also give me time to talk to M'jek and T'pat, in case they can offer assistance."

The Major recited their plan, just to confirm. "Then you and I will sneak over to the power station, cause a little blackout, re-join the others, and point our little riot toward the front door."

"And pray nothing goes wrong," the Professor added.

...

"How's it going?" T'pat asked.

"Fine, fine," Smith replied, attention laser-focused on the computer screen in front of him. "It took me a while to understand some of the programming languages the system uses and to figure out this keyboard," Smith gave a nod in the direction of the Robot, "but with the help of my tin-plated translator over there, I think I have deciphered those mysteries."

The Robot's bubble popped up, whether it was surprise at the unexpected acknowledgment or something else, T'pat couldn't tell.

"Mind if I ask what you're doing now?"

Smith motioned the guard over and T'pat joined him in front of the computer screen. "If Mal J'hat knew how insecure his networks were, heads would surely roll. Sloppy work, especially for a civilization that is seemingly more technologically advanced than humans."

"What do you mean?" T'pat asked.

"Well, your programmers used fairly strong encryption. The Robot has been working on a particular set of data for over 24 hours now. From what I can ascertain, pass codes for the armory are regenerated and distributed every 24 hours. Therefore, any pass code the Robot can crack will surely be out of date by the time we attempt to use it."

T'pat nodded, so far following what the doctor was explaining. "How is that sloppy?"

"It isn't. However," Smith typed in a few commands and brought up a file. "If we can't crack codes, we steal them."

T'pat's mouth dropped as he looked at the file. "Are those...?"

"Passwords... of the systems' programmers."

"How?"

"I installed a keylogging program on a computer in the engineering lab. When the programmers login, the program writes the passwords to a hidden file. Even if the file is discovered, it's encrypted and only  _I_  can decrypt it. My encryption algorithm uses significantly more bits than Asmani encryption. There are not enough computing resources in the entire Asmani empire to crack it before this whole complex is dust," Smith boasted.

"But how does having the programmers' passwords help us?"

Smith pointed at the screen. "If I login to this system with this password, I can get access to all sorts of interesting things, like this..." The doctor's fingers flew over the keyboard and another file popped up on the screen. He scrolled through the file until he pinpointed what he was looking for. "That is the encryption algorithm for all the pass codes generated for the armory and other systems." Smith scrolled a little more. "And here's the decryption algorithm. I've already loaded it into the Robot. He's ready for his unauthorized excursion into the armory. All he needs is a magic carpet."

"Magic carpet?"

"The hover bike," Smith smiled. "We'll tackle that task tomorrow."

Smith tapped out a few more commands and logged out.

"What did you just do?" T'pat asked, extremely curious about the doctor's every move.

"Covered my tracks. I have no desire to be discovered and executed again," Smith replied matter-of-factly. He stood, stretched his back, and flinched at the pain in his left side. Smith hit a button on his communications device to signal M'jek in the adjoining sick bay.

A few moments later, M'jek entered the room. "You called, doctor?"

"I believe you mentioned something about taking care of my ribs earlier?" Smith replied.

"Ah, yes. I'm sorry. I would have gotten to it sooner, but you were so engrossed in your work and I had a few things to tend to as well." The Asmani doctor went to one of the cabinets and pulled out a small device not much larger than his hand. When he returned, he ordered Smith to lay down on the couch in his office, his left side facing outward.

M'jek untucked Smith's shirt, pulled it upwards, and placed the device along his rib cage. M'jek pushed a button and the device hummed. Smith winced as it seemed to adhere itself and conform to the curvature of his body, then began doing whatever it was supposed to be doing.

"Feels strange," Smith remarked.

"Yes," M'jek agreed. "But in a few hours, you'll feel good as new."

Being a doctor himself, Smith was curious how the thing worked, but exhaustion from his long day beat back his desire to engage in conversation. He quickly fell asleep to the gentle hum and comforting warmth emanating from the device.


	19. Careful Preparations

Smith awoke with a start. "NO!" he screamed and flopped off of the couch onto the floor, face first. With a groan, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and rubbed his head.

M'jek came running in from another room. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"What?" Smith saw the look of alarm on M'jek's face. "Oh, nothing. Nothing. Just a nightmare." He removed the medical device that was now hanging precariously from his side and placed it on the couch. He rubbed his side and was relieved to find no pain.

"Nightmare?" M'jek inquired.

"A bad dream."

"Oh," M'jek replied. He had never experienced a dream himself, as his species did not dream. In fact, they didn't exactly sleep, not in the same manner as humans did. Still, the doctor, having been exposed to many sentient species, was aware of dreaming and the theories as to its purpose.

"Are you ok?" M'jek asked.

"Yes, thank you. I'm fine," Smith stood and brushed himself off. "My subconscious must be working overtime." He declined to elaborate on what his subconscious might be telling him and sighed heavily. "Well, since I'm up, might as well get back to work."

M'jek nodded. "I'll be resting in the other room, if you need anything."

Smith gave him a dismissive wave as he sat behind the computer again and tried to look busy. The truth was, his dream had shaken him a bit. In his nightmare, he had failed again. This time, it wasn't miserable failure that cost him his life. It was spectacular failure that cost the lives of his loved ones as well. He couldn't possibly get back to sleep with something so heavy on his mind. In order to put such doubt out of his mind, he had to do something to get a little of his confidence back. Perhaps a little covert operation would do the trick.

As soon as M'jek was out of the room, Smith signaled the Robot to come over to him. He leaned towards the Robot's audio sensors and, in a barely audible whisper, informed the Robot that he was going to check a few things out. He ordered him to cover for him if M'jek were to notice his absence. He slipped into his uniform jacket, donned his helmet, pulled on his gloves, and strapped on his sidearm.

Suitably dressed for his mission, he sneaked to the entrance of the other room and checked that M'jek was settled down again. He went back to one of the cabinets and selected a few medical instruments, securing them in the pocket inside his jacket. When he was sure he wouldn't draw any attention, he slipped out of the quarters.

Smith strolled through the corridor confidently, as if he belonged there. Considering the late hour, there weren't many witnesses to his wanderings anyway. He passed T'pat, who was on his way to relieve one of the guards at the stockade entrance, and smiled as the guard seemed to pay him no notice as he walked by.

T'pat's brow furrowed as he felt something wasn't quite right. He stopped and turned around, studying the guard he had passed some ten meters back. He jogged up behind Smith and as he was about to put a hand on his shoulder, Smith raised his hand and with his index finger motioned for the guard to come with him.

"Smith?" he whispered.

Smith nodded, but said nothing else.

"Where are you going?"

"Just out for a stroll," Smith whispered. "Keep quiet," he admonished.

T'pat obeyed and followed the doctor, wondering just what the man was up to, especially at this time of night.

Smith led T'pat toward the power station. As they approached, Smith pulled the guard down a nearby corridor and watched. When the surveillance camera had swung past the door Smith intended to enter, he motioned T'pat to follow him. He withdrew one of the instruments from his jacket and quickly picked the lock to the door. Safely inside, he searched for any additional cameras as he pocketed the instrument again. There was one just inside the entrance and he couldn't help but be caught by it. He quickly motioned T'pat past it and hoped nobody on the other end was paying any attention.

The two went deep into the power station before saying a word. T'pat grabbed Smith's shoulder, startling him, and whispered, "What are we doing here?"

"First off," Smith growled, "I suggest you not startle me like that again. Not unless you want to end up drawing unwanted attention."

"Sorry," T'pat said sheepishly.

"We're here because I wanted to peruse the power station," Smith explained. "Since I now have proper time to plan, I intend to give the engineers plenty to keep them occupied."

"What are you going to do?"

Smith grinned widely. "Here", he pointed, "and here... we place charges. We'll detonate them with this," Smith held up his left arm and tapped his communications device. His gaze wandered around the station and he mumbled to himself, "If only we could disrupt the backup power as well." The schematics he had seen only detailed the backup system. He had no idea where to access it.

Smith spied some computer consoles in the corner, traveled over to them, and logged in using one of his purloined passwords. T'pat looked over his shoulder as he worked. Heading off T'pat's inevitable question, he whispered, "I'm looking to see just what we can control in this power station by computer. It may be advantageous to create a few small diversions before we blow it all to kingdom come." Smith whispered a few details into his communications device for later reference.

"Who are you contacting?"

"Not who. What. I just recorded a few details with the Robot for later reference. I took the liberty of modifying the comm device you gave me to include an encrypted channel on one of the Robot's frequencies."

T'pat's eyebrows rose. "You've been busy, doctor."

Smith simply smirked in response. He couldn't help be amused by the fact that this mere acquaintance knew how technically adept he was, while those who knew him best thought he was the embodiment of Murphy's Law, where everything he touched exploded in a shower of sparks and smoke. Of course, the fact that he perpetuated that facade of ineptness himself in order to get out of work and any sort of responsibility might have something to do with their perception of him. He certainly couldn't have them thinking he was capable of something like sabotaging the Jupiter 2.

He stood up and thought for a moment as his gaze wandered around the station again. He really wished he could solve the problem of cutting the backup power. He had a feeling they would need to when the time came for escape. He shoved the problem to the back of his mind and then suddenly started walking back. "You'd best be reporting for duty. You're late."

T'pat checked the time and realized the doctor was right. He jogged to catch up with Smith and the two walked in silence until they were back in the corridor.

"I've gotta go. Be careful getting back," T'pat offered.

Smith nodded and they parted ways. He sneaked back into the doctor's quarters unnoticed, put back the instruments he had borrowed and, after a short conversation with the Robot, went back to sleep.

...

That morning, T'pat filled M'jek in on Smith's extracurricular activities while Smith worked on the computer console nearby. M'jek questioned why Smith felt he had to sneak out instead of telling him of the mission, but Smith simply smiled and explained he liked to keep in practice. Throughout the conversation, Smith broke in occasionally to provide additional details he decided M'jek should know. The alien doctor nodded in approval to the plans.

"Seems you've thought of everything, doctor. When are you going to implement each phase of the plan?" M'jek inquired.

"I'll decide that once I get..." Smith glanced over at the Robot and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Once I get the Robot welded to the hover bike."

The Robot's bubble popped up suddenly. "Doctor Smith, I sincerely hope my audio sensors are malfunctioning. I thought I heard you say you were going to weld me to a hover bike," the Robot replied.

Smith hung his head and suppressed a smile at being caught. He hadn't intended to reveal his plans to the Robot until later, to forestall the inevitable argument, but he'd forgotten how sensitive the mechanical man's sensors were.

"You heard correctly, ninny," Smith stood and approached the Robot. "I had to find a way to get you past the security measures in the armory. The hover bike seemed like the solution," he explained.

The Robot stood silently and Smith couldn't tell if he was offended or indifferent. Smith decided it wouldn't hurt to appeal to the "human" side the Robot had developed over the years. "I need your help," Smith whispered. "I need your processors and this is the only way."

The Robot's bubble sank slowly and a few moments later, he replied. "I understand. I will comply." He paused and then added, "You  _will_ be able to put me back the way I was, won't you?"

"Of course," Smith patted the Robot in reassurance. He went back to his seat and continued his conversation with M'jek.

Just then, a chime rang, indicating a visitor at the doctor's door. T'pat grabbed Smith's helmet on the couch and tossed it to him. Smith put it on and slid the visor down over his face. He quickly put on the rest of his guard uniform and sat on the couch next to T'pat.

M'jek checked to see who it was. His eyes widened when he saw the Major and the Professor. He looked back at Smith, whispered who it was, and motioned for him to leave the room. Smith didn't budge. He wanted to test his new identity and, truth be told, he wanted to see how his friends were holding up. He motioned for M'jek to bring the visitors in.

"Wait!" Smith said suddenly. He rushed over to the Robot and pulled his power pack. The Robot slumped over with an audible "Uuuuhhhhh". Smith slid the power pack into his jacket pocket and returned to his seat on the couch.

M'jek opened the door and greeted the humans. The guard that had escorted them indicated he would wait outside. "To what do I owe this pleasure, gentlemen?"

The Major and the Professor entered. Both saw T'pat and an unknown guard there and became wary. They also spared a glance at the Robot and were glad to see he seemed in decent shape.

"We were not aware you had company. Perhaps we should come another time," the Professor replied.

"Nonsense, come right in and take a seat," M'jek assured them. "You both know T'pat." M'jek motioned to the Asmani guard, then motioned toward Smith. "This is his close friend, K'val. He can be trusted."

The Major and the Professor eyed Smith suspiciously, not completely convinced the guard was trustworthy on just M'jek's word.

The Professor leaned toward M'jek and whispered in his ear, "We came to talk about escape plans."

M'jek steered the two humans toward chairs near his desk. "You can talk about that in front of K'val. Believe me, he feels as we do and is willing to help."

Smith nodded in response to M'jek's statement. Though they couldn't see it underneath his visor, Smith was smiling, thoroughly enjoying this covert look at his friends. He was sorely tempted to reveal his true identity and T'pat, sensing as much, kept a close eye on the doctor to prevent just that.

"Well, then, perhaps your friend can tell us in his own words," the Major replied. He'd feel much more confident of this unknown guard's motives if he would talk. The silence made him very uncomfortable.

"Sadly, he cannot," M'jek interjected. "He is mute. Mal J'hat had his tongue cut out for criticizing his father, the King. He can communicate only through crude sign language and through text on his communications device."

M'jek certainly was quick on his feet and the impromptu story he told was a prime example. It was that quick thinking that had saved Smith's life, a fact that didn't escape Smith's notice.

Smith played along and hung his head, acting as if the memories of the event weighed upon him. He quickly typed something out on his communications device and then showed it to T'pat. The humans didn't notice T'pat stifling a laugh because the beeping of M'jek's device had captured their attention. M'jek glanced at the device and suppressed a grin when he read the words to himself. "There have been times I'm sure they both wished I was mute."

"What did he say?" the Professor asked.

Without batting an eye, M'jek "translated" for the humans. "He said he has a score to settle with Mal J'hat and will aid us in whatever manner is necessary," M'jek replied.

_Oooh, he's good_ , Smith thought. He was enjoying this much more than he should and was tempted to send more snarky remarks, just to see what M'jek would come up with, but restrained himself.

The Major and Professor looked at each other and wordlessly agreed it would be ok to bring this new guard into their confidence.

The Professor took a seat and the Major followed suit. "We are planning for our escape to take place two days from now. We have enlisted the help of the majority of the prisoners to start a riot in the stockade. Other prisoners have told us that the riot in the arena strained the Asmani resources nearly to the breaking point. If we can do that, we have a good chance of not only escaping, but helping others escape as well. Doctor Smith..." the Professor paused a moment. "Doctor Smith, before he died, told us about the information he had about the power station. During the riot, if Don and I can slip out, we can get to the power station, knock out the power, and that will greatly increase our chances of escape in the resulting confusion."

M'jek interrupted. "Professor, there's no need. Stay with your family. T'pat here can manage that and do so with much less attention than two escaped prisoners would attract."

The Professor and Major looked at each other and smiled. "We would greatly appreciate the help," the Professor confessed.

"We have other allies," M'jek stated, "that will be willing to help, some in positions of power. Give me some time to talk to them. I'll send for you when we are ready and we will finalize the plan."

"Perfect," the Professor smiled. "We're looking forward to it." He stood and extended his hand to M'jek, who shook it. The Major did the same. They shook T'pat's hand and then Smith's before leaving.

As soon as they were out the door, Smith removed his helmet and smiled. Before he could make a comment, M'jek spoke. "I can see why they'd wish you mute, doctor," he said with a grin. "You nearly made me lose my composure in front of them."

"Sorry," Smith apologized. "Couldn't help myself. You covered nicely, however."

"I've had a lot of practice lately," M'jek replied.

Out of curiosity, Smith asked the doctor about his new moniker, "The name K'val... how did you come up with it?"

M'jek smiled. "It is a contraction of the word 'kovaal', which is Asmani for one who works with metal. Or, as you humans would call such a person... smith."

Smith laughed at the inside joke and at the same time was grateful his friends hadn't picked up any Asmani words, especially that one.

M'jek gently nudged Smith back to the task at hand. "You were saying something about the Robot and a hover bike?"

"Ah, yes," Smith replied. He fished the power pack out of his pocket, walked over to the Robot, and re-attached it. The Robot's panels lit up and he straightened, retracting his arms. "What happened?" he inquired.

"Sorry, ninny. We had unexpected company," Smith explained.

The Robot was confused as to why that required shutting him down, but decided not to press the issue.

"T'pat, will you be able to secure the hover bike I need for the Robot?" Smith asked.

"Yes," T'pat replied. "Give me about half an hour."

Smith nodded. "Mind the surveillance cameras," he warned as T'pat left.

While the guard was gone, Smith enlisted the help of M'jek to remove the Robot's upper half from his treads. T'pat had secured a welding torch and other materials he would need earlier and Smith readied them for the task.

As soon as T'pat returned with the bike, Smith wasted no time tearing off the seats and setting the Robot's torso atop the bike. With a little creative wiring and some trial and error, the doctor was able to get the Robot's tread controls to interface with the bike's controls, giving the mechanical man autonomous movement on the hovering platform. Smith then welded the Robot to the platform to secure him. By that evening, the Robot was hovering around M'jek's quarters, seemingly pleased by his new method of transportation.

"Doctor Smith, I was unsure of your plans at first, but I think I could get used to this," the Robot stated.

"Don't, you hovering hunk of hardware. I have to return you to your former state as soon as we've raided the armory," Smith explained.

The Robot's bubble lowered, which Smith took to mean he was displeased with the news. The doctor couldn't help but smile. The Robot's new look left something to be desired, but it did give the mechanical man infinitely more maneuverability, a fact which the Robot obviously enjoyed.

...

When the Professor and Major returned, the rest of the family was awaiting them anxiously.

"How did it go, dad?" Penny asked. "Are they going to help?"

The Professor smiled. "It went very well. They're going to help. In fact, they know other Asmani who want to help as well. They are planning their side of things and will contact us again when they're ready."

"John, that's wonderful," Maureen smiled.

She couldn't help but feel the news was bittersweet, however, as Doctor Smith wouldn't be coming with them. Similar thoughts occupied the minds of the rest of the family, though nobody said anything. They also tempered their hopes, not wanting them to be dashed once again.

The Major sat next to Judy on her bed. "T'pat has offered to cause the blackout at the power station. Your father and I will get to stay with the rest of you."

"Good," Judy replied. "I would worry too much about you and dad while you were gone."

"I have a feeling it will be safer for us if we all stick together. We haven't exactly been endearing ourselves to the Asmani. There's only one thing that bothers me."

"What's that?" Judy asked.

"John trusts M'jek. I don't have a good reason to disregard his instincts. I do think M'jek will help us."

"But?" Judy prodded.

The Major sat silent for a few moments. "He killed Smith."

Judy leaned against the Major and placed a comforting hand on his back, massaging it gently. "I don't think he had much choice," she answered. "You heard him. He talked Mal J'hat out of something much worse. I believe him on that account. I don't think he volunteered to do what he did, Don. I think Mal J'hat ordered him to. I'm sure you can imagine what happens to people who defy Mal J'hat's orders."

The Major nodded.

"You miss him, don't you?" Judy asked.

He looked at her, his brow furrowed, and then looked at the ground.

"Don, it's ok to admit it," she continued. "Before he... died, Doctor Smith confided to me that he appreciated all you and dad tried to do for him. In fact, he also admitted that he respected you. He just didn't get along with you. 'Personality conflict', he called it."

"He said that?"

Judy nodded.

He looked back at the ground. "He sure didn't act like he liked me."

"He didn't say he liked you, Don," Judy corrected. "He said he respected you."

A small smile briefly appeared on the Major's face. The way she said it sounded so much like Smith. "Good, I didn't like him either." His voice held little conviction.

Judy giggled. She suspected that for all their insults and bluster, deep down, the two of them did care what happened to each other.

"In a way, I do miss him," he finally admitted. The Major didn't bother to elaborate, nor did Judy ask him to. He sat quietly, alone in his thoughts.

Judy simply smiled. She already knew as much.


	20. Cloak and Dagger

Smith burst into M'jek's quarters after being gone for a few hours. What he had been up to, M'jek and T'pat could only guess.

"T'pat, the Robot is ready. All preparations have been made. We'll hit the armory at 0300," Smith informed. He looked at his communications device. "We have six hours. Have you arranged to have your friend on guard duty at central command?"

"Yes," T'pat confirmed. "He'll be there. I filled him in on what he is to do. He will make sure there is no surveillance evidence of the security breach in the armory."

"Good. Do you have your disguise ready?"

"Yes," T'pat answered. "I don't see why I have to pose as the supply clerk and you get to be the guard."

Smith slid his visor up and glared at T'pat. Upon seeing the distinctly human face, T'pat suddenly remembered. "Oh, right. I forgot you aren't Asmani."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or an insult," Smith answered dryly.

T'pat laughed. "Take it as a compliment, doctor."

Smith nodded and then turned to the Robot. "The new pass codes are scheduled to be distributed at 0200, ninny. I'll send them to you as soon as I... appropriate them."

"I assume you will send them by encrypted channel," the Robot stated.

Smith furrowed his brow in confusion. "Yes, of course. Why?"

"I've heard it would be very difficult for you to communicate them verbally... since you're a mute!" The Robot let loose a mechanical laugh.

Smith rolled his eyes and then glared at T'pat. "Did you tell him?"

T'pat shrugged and tried to look innocent, but the small quirk at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.

Smith started to say something, but the Robot lifted a single claw. "Uh, uh, uh, Doctor Smith. You're supposed to be a mute." Smith glared at the Robot and started to talk again, when the Robot shushed him. The doctor's eyebrows crashed together in a firm scowl. The Robot interrupted him at every turn. Finally, Smith tapped something out on his communications device and stalked off to the other room.

A second later, the Robot received the text message. He swiveled in the direction the doctor had left. "Doctor Smith! Such language!"

...

Later that evening, Smith, T'pat, M'jek, and the Robot assembled for their mission. Smith sat at the computer, retrieving the encrypted pass codes, while T'pat slipped into his disguise and the others waited patiently.

"Ok, ninny, the encrypted codes are on their way to you," Smith stated.

"Affirmative. They have been received," the Robot confirmed.

Smith grabbed a tarp T'pat had brought with him and covered the Robot. T'pat unplugged the hover bike's charging cord from the wall and pushed the covered Robot out the door. Smith slid his visor over his face and grabbed the laser rifle T'pat had given him. Together, the two headed out towards the armory.

"Good luck," M'jek whispered behind them.

T'pat kept his head down as they traveled, to avoid being recognized by any of the other guards they might pass. When they reached the armory, the corridor was clear. Smith lifted the tarp high enough for the Robot to reach the keypad and enter the first pass code. The door slid open and the three slipped inside before it closed again.

Inside the armory, T'pat removed the tarp from the Robot and Smith slung the strap of a satchel over his arm. The Robot easily glided above the pressure plates towards an inner door. Beyond it lay their goal, the explosives and weapons they'd need to bring down a tyrant. The Robot input the second pass code and hovered through the door. He quickly found what they wanted and filled the satchel with explosives.

The Robot brought the satchel to Smith, who rummaged through it.

"What are you doing?" T'pat whispered.

"I'm making sure we have easier access when it's needed," Smith replied.

T'pat didn't understand until he saw Smith molding some of the plastic explosives into shape and inserting what appeared to be wires into it. He secured what appeared to be a small electronic device to the charge and handed it to the Robot. The Robot hovered over the plates again and secured the charge, high on the wall, just inside the other door. Smith did the same, with a similar charge, above the inner door.

As the Robot hovered back over the pressure plates, the satchel slipped off of his arm. Smith reached out and caught it, but his forward momentum was too much. He waved his free arm and shifted his weight in an effort to regain his balance, but he tipped forward and began to fall towards the plate. Much to his relief, his forward progress stopped, just in time, as T'pat grabbed his gun belt and pulled him back. The two fell back against the wall and heaved a sigh of relief.

The Robot hovered back over to them, as if nothing of significance had just happened. Smith just glared at him. "Someday, ninny, you'll be the death of me. I just know it."

"If I hadn't been here, that day might've been today," T'pat offered.

Smith put a hand on the guard's shoulder. "Thanks. Now, let's get out of here." Smith secured the satchel to the hover bike while T'pat covered the Robot again with the tarp. Smith led the way back to the outer door. A quick call to T'pat's friend in central command confirmed the corridor was clear and all three exited the armory. They walked briskly back and as soon as they were behind the doors of M'jek's quarters, Smith collapsed on the couch, nerves too frayed to even consider celebrating. T'pat confirmed with his friend at central command that all visual and audio evidence of the breach had been erased.

M'jek entered the room holding two drinks. He handed one to T'pat and the two began discussing the mission. Smith certainly could use a drink himself and cleared his throat to try to get their attention. They went on talking and ignored him, purposely. Smith tried calling their names, but got no response.

T'pat stifled a chuckle. In Asmani, he said to M'jek "For a mute, he sure does talk a lot." The two laughed.

"I wonder how long it will take him to figure out we're joking with him," M'jek replied, also in Asmani.

Smith waved his hands, trying to draw a glance his way. He could've simply gotten off the couch and walked over to them, but he was too tired and too lazy to do so. His efforts were fruitless, so he decided he'd have to up the ante.

As T'pat took another sip of his drink while M'jek talked, a couch pillow slammed into the side of his head and plopped to the floor. Two alien heads slowly turned to regard the agitated doctor and then they burst out laughing.

"Finally!" Smith said, exasperated.

T'pat gasped and turned to M'jek. "The mute speaks!"

"You're certainly getting a lot of mileage out of that joke, aren't you, T'pat?" a scowl slowly formed on Smith's face. "But are you sure you want to be making jokes at the expense of a skilled spy and saboteur?"

The smile on T'pat's lips quickly disappeared. He knew what Smith was capable of and the thought of those skills being directed at him in anger gave him pause. Perhaps he had miscalculated this little joke.

Smith continued, "Howsomever, I may be appeased if you bring me one of those." Smith pointed at the beverage both T'pat and M'jek were enjoying. The wicked grin that washed over the human's face relieved T'pat. The doctor was just playing with him too.

"Of course," M'jek replied. He left the room and quickly returned with two drinks, one for Smith and one to replace T'pat's, most of which was on the floor and the pillow.

Smith stood and walked over to accept his drink. "To success!" he toasted. The others raised their drinks as he had, repeated the toast, and quickly downed their drinks.

"I could use another," Smith stated as he handed his empty glass back to M'jek.

...

The following morning, M'jek met with their allies on the high council. Two of the members were reluctant to get involved, although they certainly wished the plan success. The Grand Master, however, was more than willing to do what he could to help. The guilt of the human doctor's execution weighed on him and he wished to make amends by freeing his family. M'jek requested that the Grand Master oversee evacuation of sympathetic Asmani during the blackout and gave him coordinates with instructions to wait for him there. M'jek explained that the Grand Master would necessarily fill the void of leadership once Mal J'hat was deposed, until a suitable government could be seated. The Grand Master didn't want the position, but agreed to grudgingly accept it when the time came.

...

While M'jek was conferring with the council, Smith was busy cutting the Robot free from his hovering platform and restoring both him and the hover bike to their previous states. When the work was done, Smith accompanied T'pat to the motor pool to return the bike. As they were walking back, they heard a call come over their comm devices about a scuffle in the stockade.

Smith cursed. "The Major."

"What?"

"I have a bad feeling Major West is involved. He has a quick temper," Smith quickly explained, then took off running for the stockade. T'pat followed.

When they arrived in the stockade, Smith went directly toward the Robinson camp. His suspicions were confirmed when he saw three guards dragging a resisting Major West into the maximum security cell.

Two other guards were beating the Professor, who was on the ground futilely trying to defend himself against the blows. T'pat called over the radio to state they had the situation under control and to cancel any backup that might be on their way.

Smith pulled a guard off the Professor and slammed him against the wall, his fists grasping handfuls of uniform. Smith growled and was about to say something when he realized Major West was close enough to hear. Being mute certainly had its disadvantages and he silently cursed M'jek for the story he'd told. He shoved the guard towards his cohorts and joined T'pat.

"What's going on here?" T'pat asked the guards.

"We were told to put the two human males in maximum security," one of the guards answered.

"It looked more like you were beating them rather than securing them," T'pat countered.

Smith typed furiously on his comm device while T'pat dealt with the other guards. T'pat received the transmission and understood the plan.

"These are humans! Mal J'hat specifically stated he wanted the pleasure of finishing these foul creatures off himself," T'pat explained.

Smith typed out another message, which T'pat relayed. "Unless you want us to inform Mal J'hat that you attempted to deprive him of that pleasure, we suggest you leave here immediately. We'll take care of securing them."

The guards, frightened by possible reprisals from Mal J'hat, left quickly. Smith knelt down next to the Professor and assessed his injuries. The Major watched the guard he knew as K'val as he tended to the Professor and decided there was something very familiar about him, but he couldn't pinpoint what. Smith typed out his medical assessment of the Professor and transmitted it to T'pat.

Mrs. Robinson brought the proper medical supplies, from the many leftovers of Doctor Smith's clinic, to tend to the Professor's injuries. Smith accepted them with a nod. He cleaned up the cuts and dressed them.

The Major got T'pat's attention and the guard walked over to the cell. "What did he say about John?"

"He said he appears to have a concussion," T'pat answered. "Keep a close eye on him and contact us if he gets worse."

Smith rose and gave Major West a quick once over through the transparent forcefield. He was in much better shape than the Professor.

"What happened here?" T'pat asked to no one in particular.

"They tried to get us both into maximum security," the Major answered. "Obviously, we resisted."

T'pat and Smith helped the Professor to his feet. Smith pulled one of the Professor's arms around his shoulder, guided him to one of the beds, and helped him get comfortable.

Mrs. Robinson, grateful the two guards had broken up the fight, thanked them and gave each of them a hug. As she pulled back from hugging Smith, she looked curiously at his visor, wishing she could see his face. Just as the Major had, she sensed there was something familiar about this guard, though she couldn't fathom what.

As T'pat turned to leave, Smith quickly typed out a message for T'pat to relay. Truth be told, he was stalling. He wanted more time with his family. T'pat read the message and turned back to the Robinsons. "K'val says to be careful."

Mrs. Robinson and the children looked curiously at Smith. T'pat, seeing the looks, explained. "I'm sorry. I did not introduce you properly. This is K'val."

"He's mute," the Major supplied. "Mal J'hat had his tongue cut out for criticizing his father, the king."

Mrs. Robinson stared at Smith with a look of great pity. Instinctively, she placed a hand on Smith's arm. Though she couldn't see it, he smiled back at her. He patted her hand in appreciation, then squeezed it. He knew he couldn't stall any longer and turned to leave with T'pat. T'pat offered his best wishes to the family and the two guards left.

...

Smith broke the uneasy silence that had accompanied them most of the way back to M'jek's quarters. "We have to find the backup generator, T'pat. Or figure out how to disable the forcefield without drawing notice. Otherwise, we won't get the Major out tomorrow night."

The doctor gave T'pat his laser rifle and told him to continue on. "I'll be back in an hour, no later."

As Smith turned to leave, T'pat asked him where he was going. Smith ignored him and quickly disappeared from sight.


	21. The Less You Know, The Better

T'pat became slightly nervous when Smith didn't return within an hour, as he'd said. He started pacing when Smith was two hours overdue. He was almost unhinged when Smith wasn't back within three hours. M'jek was similarly flustered by the doctor's absence. All manner of dire scenarios began to plague their thoughts.

When they thought they couldn't stand it anymore, a slightly disheveled Smith quietly slipped into the doctor's quarters. T'pat and M'jek both attacked Smith with questions.

"Where have you been?" M'jek asked.

"You said you'd be back two hours ago!" T'pat interjected.

Smith held his hands up and urged them to calm down. "I was taking care of a few things," he explained.

"For three hours?" T'pat growled.

"Sorry I was late. Things got slightly... involved. However, I did manage to solve our problem with the backup generator," Smith grinned.

"How?" T'pat asked.

"I found it," Smith replied, "and took the liberty of removing a few crucial parts."

"And that took three hours?" M'jek asked.

"Well, no," Smith answered. "First I had to find it. That involved... well, we don't want to get into that."

The face Smith made convinced M'jek and T'pat that they really didn't want to hear that part of the story. T'pat was reminded of what Smith had once said, "The less you know the better." He decided this was one of those times.

"Then, I had to... liberate... a few tools to do the job. Once that was done, I had to dispose of the parts where they wouldn't be found and return the tools, so as to not arouse suspicion."

"You could have at least called in," T'pat scolded.

"I would have... if I had been able to," Smith held up his left arm, revealing a severely damaged comm device. "I'm afraid I'll need another one."

T'pat's eyes widened in surprise. "How'd that happen?"

"It happened while I was looking for the generator. Believe me, you  _really_  don't want to know," Smith replied. "And I don't care to relive it," he added. He glanced at the alien doctor. "M'jek, I could use a drink." Smith plopped down on the couch. As an afterthought, he removed the damaged comm device, tossed it onto M'jek's desk, and rubbed his left arm.

M'jek poured a drink for Smith and brought it over to him. "You didn't do anything that might jeopardize the mission, did you?"

"I certainly hope not," Smith replied. When two sets of brows raised in alarm, Smith smiled and reassured them everything was fine.

After quickly downing the drink, Smith stood and walked toward the Robot. "We have only half an hour until dawn. I suggest we get the Robot back while we still have some cover of darkness."

T'pat grudgingly agreed, despite the fact he'd much rather get some sleep after their adventurous and exhausting evening.

After Smith replaced his damaged comm device, the three set out on foot, traveling as fast as they could manage. Shortly into their trek, Smith signaled to T'pat to veer off to the left, while he went right.

T'pat questioned him. "What's going on?"

Smith quickly whispered, "We're being followed." Then, he disappeared from sight.

T'pat did as Smith had told him and managed a surreptitious glance behind him. There was indeed a shadowy figure some distance back, following him. He continued on with the Robot for a while and then glanced back again. Another shadowy figure had appeared behind him and was stalking the first. T'pat assumed it was Smith. He certainly hoped it was Smith.

Smith advanced on their unknown pursuer quietly. When he had gotten within five feet, he rushed up and slammed a karate chop across the back of their pursuer's neck. The figure slumped to the ground.

T'pat watched as one shadowy figure dragged the other into some brush. He watched for movement, hoping Smith would be back soon, but all was quiet. Minutes later, a tap on his shoulder made him jump. He turned to see Smith, out of breath, but otherwise alright.

"Let's keep moving," Smith whispered and continued on towards the Chariot, where they'd leave the Robot.

"Who was that?" T'pat asked.

"Probably the same person who was watching us at the motor pool," Smith replied.

"Do you think someone's on to us?" T'pat asked.

"I don't know. If so, I would think it was someone trying to confirm suspicions in order to bring them to Mal J'hat. If Mal J'hat already had any inkling of what was going on, he'd have a whole army after us."

T'pat nodded in agreement. "You're right. Mal J'hat doesn't take chances. But certainly, when whoever that was wakes up, their suspicions will be confirmed and they'll take that knowledge to Mal J'hat."

Smith quickly glanced at T'pat and without a word, took the lead and started the trek up the hill towards the Chariot.

The look on Smith's face unnerved him. The fact Smith hadn't replied to his statement unnerved him even more. T'pat reiterated to himself, "The less I know, the better," and helped the Robot up the hill as his treads struggled for traction.

Smith reached the Chariot first and waited patiently for T'pat and the Robot to arrive.

"I could have used some help," T'pat grumbled.

"You seemed to do alright by yourself," Smith grinned. "Besides, my back is exceedingly delicate after all this  _unseemly_  business today."

T'pat grudgingly dropped his complaints. He'd much rather push the Robot than have to do whatever the doctor had been up to.

Smith waved T'pat and the Robot over to the Chariot. He instructed T'pat on how the Robot was to be loaded into the vehicle and the two of them got the mechanical man situated in short order. Before they left, Smith slid open one of the Robot's access panels and stuck a hand inside. "I'm sorry, my metallic friend, but I can't have you remembering all of this." He quickly erased the Robot's memory banks of all data recorded after he was disabled by the Asmani guards. As soon as the records were deleted, Smith pulled his power pack and placed it nearby. He smiled sadly and patted the Robot's side. "Thank you, ninny" he whispered. "Your help has been invaluable."

Smith climbed out of the Chariot and motioned to T'pat. "We'd best be getting back."

The two quickly made their way back as dawn broke over the imposing alien base.

...

As Mrs. Robinson tended to her husband, he tried to convince her to let him up out of the bed. She placed her hands on his chest and lovingly told him he needed to rest and recover from his injuries.

"Maureen, please," he pleaded. "I need to talk to Don... about the escape."

She looked into his eyes and what she saw was not the normal confidence and self-control she was used to seeing. That unnerved her. Despite her better judgment, she helped him up, brought him over to the cell, and he sat next to the forcefield. Don sat next to him to discuss their plans and Mrs. Robinson left them alone.

"How're you feeling?" the Major asked in concern.

"I've been better," the Professor rubbed the back of his head. "Don, I don't know how, but we've managed to end up in the same situation as we were with Doctor Smith. We're not leaving without you. Maybe we should just call the whole thing off until we can figure out that forcefield."

"And I find myself in the unenviable position of agreeing with Smith. John, you have to take the rest of the family and go when you have the opportunity."

The Professor knew he was right, but he didn't like it. He grasped at straws, looking for something, anything, that could enable them all to leave this place. "Maybe M'jek can find a way to shut the forcefield off."

"John, we already asked him that. He couldn't do it for Smith. I don't see how things have changed any."

The Professor heaved a heavy sigh. "By all rights, it should be me in that cell," he stated angrily. "If you hadn't stepped in..."

"If I hadn't stepped in," West nodded toward the Robinson family, "they'd be leaving behind a husband and a father."

The Professor looked at his family. He would sacrifice everything for them, yet, it seemed Doctor Smith and Major West had made those sacrifices instead.

"I need to talk to M'jek," he stated as he struggled to his feet. "We need to postpone this."

"John..."

"Don, I won't argue with you on this. We already lost one member of this family. We're NOT going to lose another. Not if I can help it." Before the Major could protest, the Professor turned and stalked off. He was intent on seeing M'jek again and finding a way to save his friend.

...

Coincidentally, M'jek had sent for the Professor shortly before the Professor's conversation with the Major. T'pat intercepted him near the front of the stockade and escorted him to M'jek's quarters.

As they walked, they engaged in small talk. The Professor, asked out of curiosity, "How do you tell each other apart with those visors covering your face?"

"How do  _you_  tell us apart?" T'pat countered. "You've obviously figured out how to distinguish me from the rest."

"Your build. Your mannerisms. Is that how you tell each other apart?"

"Smell," T'pat answered. It was a lie, but he figured the human was looking for a more exotic answer than the fact they wore name tags written in the Asmani language. It had obviously escaped the Professor's notice.

"Really? You must have a much more developed olfactory sense than humans," the Professor replied.

T'pat laughed. "No, not really. Name tags."

"Name tags?" the Professor studied the guard's uniform and once he spotted the tag, he shook his head and smiled at the oversight. "You had me going there. I'm beginning to think a little of Doctor Smith rubbed off on you."

Though the Professor couldn't see it, T'pat smiled behind his visor. He was finding he enjoyed the company of humans almost as much as his own kind. They were curious, insightful, and incredibly resourceful.

They reached M'jek's quarters and both entered after announcing their arrival over the intercom. T'pat and the Professor found M'jek sitting behind the desk. The guard the Professor knew as K'val was behind him, leaning over and pointing something out to the doctor on the computer console. Both men looked up and M'jek stood to greet his guest. Smith signaled to M'jek that he would continue his work in the other room, so as to not disturb their conversation. Smith acknowledged T'pat and the Professor with a nod as he left.

"Professor Robinson, have a seat," M'jek gestured toward the empty chair on the other side of his desk. "You'll be pleased to know that our preparations are nearly complete."

"We have to postpone it," the Professor urged.

"Postpone? Why?"

"They put Don into the maximum security cell Smith was in. We're not going to leave him there," the Professor explained.

M'jek smiled. "No need to worry, Professor. K'val has already found a solution to your problem. Major West will be able to leave with the rest of you as planned. When the power goes out, the forcefield will shut off."

"I thought the backup generator would kick in and keep the forcefield on."

"That's only if the backup generator is working properly," M'jek explained.

"Which it isn't..." the Professor surmised with a smile.

"No, it's not," M'jek returned the smiled. "When you hear the eight chimes tonight, indicating lights out, the power will be disrupted. That is your signal to start the riot. Look for T'pat or K'val. They might be able to get weapons to you and some of the prisoners. Your best chance is to leave by the west gate. Your vehicle is waiting on the hill there."

"What about the other prisoners?" Despite the growing prospect of freedom, the Professor wasn't about to forget those who'd helped his family through this ordeal. He wanted reassurance they would be safe as well.

"We will lead as many of them as we can to safety. We have a well-armed contingent of sympathetic Asmani who have volunteered to do so."

"Good. I guess we're about as ready as we'll ever be." The Professor rose and stuck out his hand to the doctor.

M'jek shook the Professor's hand. "Good luck, Professor Robinson."

"Good luck, M'jek. I hope to see you safe and sound outside this place later this evening."

M'jek nodded and requested T'pat escort the Professor back to the stockade.

As soon as the two left, Smith came stalking back into the room, clearly agitated. He slid his visor up and glared at the alien doctor.

"What's wrong?" M'jek asked.

"You told the Professor that K'val had taken care of the backup generator," Smith explained.

"Is there something wrong with that?"

" _I_  am K'val," Smith continued. "When it is revealed Doctor Smith is alive, if the Professor connects me to K'val, it won't be a great jump in logic to deduce  _I_  was behind much of what will happen tonight. He will fully understand what I am capable of. He will know that it was I that..." Smith snapped his jaw shut as he realized what he was about to confess.

"Sabotaged the ship," M'jek finished.

Smith nodded almost imperceptibly, as he realized there was no sense in trying to hide it anymore. Not to M'jek, anyway. "Such a revelation could jeopardize my standing with the Robinsons. Until now, they have been willing to overlook my faults and forgive my actions, but all that pales in comparison to my actions on that fateful day. It was a mistake. I see that now. The biggest mistake I ever made. I will not save them only to lose them again to my past. Do you understand? They are not to know of my involvement in these operations."

M'jek nodded. "I am sorry." He studied Smith for a moment. "You care very deeply for them, don't you?"

Smith stared at M'jek. For a split second, Smith's stone-faced expression wavered and M'jek saw the briefest glimmer of emotion, confirming his assessment.

"I have work to do," Smith spat and stalked off.

Smith plopped down into a chair in the other room and his fingers flew over the keyboard of the console in front of him.

_Care for them?_  Smith thought.  _I only care for them insomuch as I need them for my own survival. I'd gladly trade them in for a ride home,_ he lied to himself. He sat for a moment, thinking over the events of the past few years, and sighed heavily in resignation to his thoughts.  _I suppose I do care what happens to them, but now's not the time for sentimentality, Zachary, ol' boy. You have to keep it together. You have a big night ahead of you._


	22. Exodus

As the appointed time drew near, Smith grew more restless, pacing and fidgeting. He mentally reviewed their plans, double checked his weapon, and triple checked the explosives.

Smith sighed heavily. He knew he had the skill required for the task ahead of him, but he had become very used to the Professor or the Major charging off into danger, while he kept a safe distance behind, usually behind the women and children.

M'jek and T'pat watched the confidence and command Smith had projected over the last few days slowly evaporate and they were a bit mystified.

"Doctor, are you nervous?" T'pat asked.

"Aren't you?" Smith countered.

"Why should we be? Your plans seem solid. You have accounted for several contingencies. What could go wrong?"

"Anything... and everything." Smith's brow furrowed. "If experience is any indication..."

"Should we be worried?" M'jek asked.

"Don't bother. I'm sure I'll do enough worrying for the rest of you," Smith replied. "The moment I stop worrying is the moment you should start."

Both M'jek and T'pat stared at Smith with puzzled looks.

"Overconfidence is the enemy, gentlemen. Just as surely as Mal J'hat. When one lets one's guard down and stops analyzing possible points of failure, that's when disaster strikes."

Smith checked the time. "Close enough," he commented. "I'd better get going. T'pat, be ready to go immediately when I get back. If I'm not back in thirty minutes, assume something went wrong... and implement the contingency plans I've outlined."

T'pat placed a hand on Smith's shoulder. "Good luck, doctor," he offered.

Smith smiled weakly and nodded. He hefted the satchel of explosives over his shoulder and opened the flap once more to check his cargo. Then he slid his visor over his face, took a deep breath to steady himself, and then slipped out of the doctor's quarters.

...

With his heart pounding in his chest, Smith slinked through the familiar corridors. His senses were on high alert and his eyes shifted quickly, back and forth, behind his visor, in search of trouble. When he reached the entrance to the power plant, he took a good look around to make sure the coast was clear, then pulled the tools he needed from his inside jacket pocket. He made quick work of the lock, slipped inside, and dashed past the camera inside the door.

He checked the time as he jogged to a ladder near one of the turbines. Twenty-five minutes until all hell broke loose.  _Twenty-five minutes until freedom from this whole horrific ordeal_ , he told himself. He grasped the rungs of the ladder tightly and climbed three quarters of the way up. He wrapped an arm securely around the ladder while he fished an explosive charge out of his satchel with the other.

Smith stretched to place the charge on the turbine, but his trembling fingers betrayed him. The charge slipped from his grasp. He quickly grabbed for the falling explosive, only managing to tap it upward, rather than securing it. He watched in horror as it tumbled end over end, just out of reach of his outstretched fingertips. Having no idea of the impact sensitivity of the alien explosive, he quickly grasped the ladder with both arms, shut his eyes tightly, and held his breath. He was sure he was about to be assaulted by the resulting fireball when the explosive hit the ground. It would be just his luck. For several seconds, he remained frozen in place. When neither a thunderous explosion nor fiery tempest materialized, he timidly pried one eye open, then the other, and looked cautiously toward the ground, where the explosive lay harmlessly.

Smith exhaled slowly, said a quick prayer of thanks, and, after taking a moment to steady his nerves, chose another charge from the satchel. Grasping it tighter this time, he managed to secure it to the turbine and arm it. He descended the ladder, spared a glance at the charge on the floor, and decided it was just fine where it was as he tiptoed around it. He headed toward the second turbine to repeat the task. Smith checked the time again. Twenty minutes to go. He jogged back to the entrance, not worrying about the camera. He placed a charge just inside the door, armed it, and fled, not caring who saw his retreat. Smith received several bemused glances as he ran through the corridors.

Smith weaved through the complex and darted down a dead end corridor. He withdrew another tool from his jacket and pried off a vent grating, which sat about shoulder height on the wall. Smith jumped and attempted to pull himself into it, but slowly slid back down. He tried again, gaining a little more purchase inside the hollow interior of the vent shaft, but again sliding back to the floor.  _Come on, Zachary_ , he chided himself.  _This is no time for games._ He tried once more, his feet clawing desperately into the wall to push himself up, while his arms inched forward into the vent. He finally gained enough leverage and the vent seemingly swallowed him up, feet last.

He crawled, as quietly as could be managed, through the ventilation shaft, setting a few charges at strategic points. After about ten minutes, he attempted to turn around and make his way back, only to find himself stuck, on his back, unable to bring his legs around into the position he needed. He began to panic slightly. The thought of being blown to smithereens in that small crawlspace was definitely not a pleasant one. He kicked his legs and flailed his arms, trying to move himself into a position, any position, that could allow him to move back through the shaft. He stopped abruptly when he felt the metal beneath him give a little more than it should. He heard the metal groan and felt it shift a bit more, then suddenly give way all together as he yelped in surprise.

Smith landed hard, on his back, in the middle of a small guard station. Before he could release a groan of pain, a single laser pistol was pointed at his head. Though the lone guard couldn't see it, Smith grinned sheepishly in embarrassment behind his visor. He gave a timid little wave with one hand, then quickly tossed an explosive charge into the air with the other. Smith scrambled toward the door as the guard fumbled with the airborne explosive, dropping his pistol as he did so. As he reached the door, Smith pulled his own pistol, turned, and fired on the hapless guard, not without a tinge of regret.  _Better him than you, Zachary_ , he told himself.

Once back in the corridor again, Smith quickly oriented himself and ran as fast as his legs would carry him toward home base. Just as he reached M'jek's quarters, he heard the first of what would be eight chimes signaling lights out. Right on time. He tapped a button on his comm device to detonate the four charges at the power plant and slipped back into the doctor's quarters. Looks of relief greeted him and then smiles as they heard and felt the concussion from the exploding charges. The lights flickered and then went dead.

T'pat switched on three portable lights, handing one to Smith and one to M'jek.

"Ready?" Smith asked.

"Ready," T'pat and M'jek replied in unison.

The three grasped their weapons tightly, at the ready, and filed out of the quarters. Smith headed toward the armory, T'pat toward the stockade, and M'jek toward the Grand Master's quarters to rendezvous with him.

The cacophony of the prisoner's riot greeted T'pat as he arrived at his destination first. The guards there were doing their best to suppress the uprising, but without light to see what they were doing and who they were fighting, it was difficult, especially against the superior numbers of the prisoners. T'pat charged into the fray, searching for the humans. He quickly found them amidst some of the most furious fighting. Major West was there with them, thanks to the sabotage wrought on the backup generator by Smith.

The Professor was struggling with a guard, attempting to relieve him of his laser rifle. Unexpectedly, the guard slumped to the ground, revealing T'pat standing behind him.

"It's nice to finally see a friendly face around here," the Professor quipped.

"Come with me, quickly," T'pat urged.

The Robinsons and Major West eagerly fell into line behind T'pat as they fled the stockade. Other prisoners could see in the glow cast by T'pat's flashlight that the humans were on the move and fell in behind them, beginning the massive push towards freedom.

In the distance, they heard an explosion, followed quickly by another. T'pat picked up the pace and the Robinson party kept up. When they got to the armory, Smith had already placed a nice stockpile of laser rifles and other weapons at the still smoldering entrance and was busy bringing out more by the arm full. As the Robinsons and Major West armed themselves, T'pat and Smith directed the prisoners that had followed to help themselves to whatever was left in the armory.

A brief skirmish erupted as a squad of guards rounded a corner and found themselves confronted by the newly armed prisoners. Smith and T'pat hit the floor as wildly aimed laser blasts from the guards narrowly missed them. The Robinsons all fired back in response, quickly silencing the outnumbered opposition and forcing the few survivors to hastily retreat.

Smith had gained his feet and helped T'pat to stand. He waved the guard on to his next task, which was to lead everyone out the west gate to freedom, while he went off to set a few more charges. M'jek checked in and verified that he and the Grand Master were leading Asmani to safety out the north gate.

Smith jogged past the power plant and saw guards and engineers already trying to dig their way in through the mound of rubble at the entrance to see what could be done to restore power. He smiled, knowing full well there was nothing they could do. When he got to his destination, he yelled in Asmani, with the help of the translation device in his helmet, that help was needed down the corridor. The two guards and 2 civilians manning the room ran out the door in the direction Smith had pointed. With the room emptied, he hid two charges and armed them, setting timers for them both, since he planned on being well out of range when they blew.

He made his way back toward the west gate, stopping to set charges in the ransacked armory, atop a pile of munitions. He armed them and set their timers for a little longer than the previous set of charges. He certainly didn't want to be anywhere near the place when the armory blew sky high.

As T'pat and the prisoners approached the west gate, Will stopped dead in his tracks, as if he suddenly remembered something urgent he needed to do.

"The Robot! We can't leave the Robot!" he yelled, as he turned and ran back down the dim corridor.

"Will!" Mrs. Robinson cried after him.

The Professor grabbed the Major by the elbow and gave him orders, "Make sure you and T'pat get the others out of here and to the Chariot. I'll go after Will."

T'pat loosed an Asmani expletive as the Professor disappeared from sight. He turned to the Major. "Your Robot is waiting in the Chariot. We neglected to tell you."

"Well, I suppose they'll both find out when they get there," the Major replied. "For now, we need to keep moving."

They had no trouble getting through the west gate, as it sat unguarded. All available guards had been ordered to the stockade. T'pat directed the Robinsons and Major West to their Chariot and ordered the other prisoners to keep going, as fast and as far as they could from the base.

Major West fired up the vehicle as the others jumped in. Judy, Penny, and Mrs. Robinson took seats near the front, leaving the back free for the Professor and Will to facilitate a quick getaway.

"I'm going back," T'pat stated as he held out a hand for the Major to shake. "I have some unfinished business. Good luck! I hope to see you later."

The Major gave his hand a hearty shake and returned the wish of good luck. "Thanks for all your help," he added.

T'pat nodded and ran off, back towards the base. When he was out of earshot of the Chariot, he radioed Smith and let him know most of the family was safe, but that Will and the Professor were still inside the base, looking for the Robot.

Having finished planting charges, Smith returned the call. "I'll look for them. Check in with me again as soon as you get back to base."

Knowing the Professor and Will would most likely head to the last place the Robot was seen, he made his way to M'jek's quarters. There, he found Will, who had somehow found his way there in near darkness. He was desperately trying to find a way through the door. Smith caught up to him and grabbed his elbow, turning him around to face him.

Will's eyes widened in fear at the sight of the Asmani guard. Smith saw Will's gaze was locked on the laser pistol he held in his hand. He quickly holstered it, which caused the boy to relax a little. Smith dragged Will along towards the west gate, but Will resisted. "But, I have to get the Robot! We can't leave him here!"

Smith stopped abruptly, turned toward Will, and gave him a hand signal telling him to give him a moment. He typed something out on his comm device and situated himself shoulder to shoulder with the boy so he could read what he had written.  _The Robot is safe. He's waiting for you in the Chariot._

"K'val!"

Smith looked up and saw that the Professor had also managed to find his way there. He grabbed Will's elbow again and led him to his father. He then motioned for the two of them to follow him, as he led them through the darkness to the west gate. When they arrived, he pointed toward the hill and then shooed them away. They quickly obeyed.

A few seconds later, Smith's comm device squawked as T'pat radioed Smith that he was already deep inside the base and intended to go after Mal J'hat.

"We don't have time!" Smith radioed back. He waited for a reply, but heard only silence. He debated for a moment what to do next, but grudgingly ran off towards Mal J'hat's quarters to intercept his friend.

What he found when he got there was Mal J'hat holding a laser pistol on T'pat. Clearly, Mal J'hat had been expecting something.

"T'pat, I should have known you were involved in all this, you traitor," Mal J'hat spat. He raised his laser pistol to eye level and aimed at the guard.

"J'hat!" Smith yelled from behind the leader, as he pulled his own pistol.

The alien chief turned to face the new threat. That was just the distraction T'pat needed. He drew his pistol and he and Smith fired simultaneously at Mal J'hat.

Mal J'hat hit the ground and Smith went to check him. He wanted to make sure the tyrant was dead.

T'pat joined Smith. "If I didn't find the appearance of humans completely repulsive, I'd kiss you, doctor," T'pat smiled.

Smith looked up at the guard. "The feeling's mutual, my friend," Smith replied.

Mal J'hat was still alive, somehow, and stared up at the two guards hovering over him. "Who are you?" he asked Smith.

Smith raised his visor. Recognition quickly flashed across Mal J'hat's face. "SMITH!" he yelled in apoplectic rage. He realized then how deeply he'd been betrayed by his own people. He tried to reach for the doctor, but found he couldn't move.

Smith turned to T'pat. "Time is short. We need to get out of here. Now!"

T'pat reached down to strangle the remaining life from the tyrant. Smith intercepted him. "We must go."

"I won't go until I know he's dead," T'pat growled. "And I want it to be by my own two hands."

"He's beyond help, T'pat," Smith pleaded. Seeing that his words hadn't registered with the guard, Smith pulled one of the remaining explosives from his satchel. "It's a good thing I have one left," he replied as he set the timer and placed it on Mal J'hat's chest.

"Come on, let's go," Smith reiterated.

Satisfied at the doctor's solution, T'pat stood. The two men started running towards the nearest exit.

Mal J'hat screamed in rage, "You can't do this to me!"

Smith slid to a stop, turned back to the tyrant, and glared at him. "I  _can_  and I just  _did_." With a dismissive and condescending "Goodbye!", he flipped down his visor and ran off to catch up with T'pat.

Down the corridor, three guards had just rounded a corner near Mal J'hat's quarters, responding to a previous communication from their leader. What they found was their leader down and two guards fleeing the scene.

Knowing there was no hope for him, Mal J'hat gave his last order. "Kill them!" He just hoped he'd live long enough to see Smith's dead carcass delivered to him.

The guards all gave chase, intent on carrying out their fallen leader's orders.

Laser fire flashed by T'pat's head. "T'ahi!" he yelped, uttering his favorite Asmani expletive, as he and Smith glanced behind them.

"T'ahi, indeed!" Smith reiterated. He motioned to T'pat to take the left corridor, while he took the right. He radioed on their secure channel to lose his pursuers and meet him at the motor pool.

One guard cut to the left to follow T'pat, while the remaining two followed Smith. Smith glanced back again and saw his pursuers gaining.  _Why me?_  he thought.  _Why did I have to get stuck with two of them? The majority of them couldn't have followed the fleet footed, energetic, young Asmani. No, they had to follow aging, winded, about to have a coronary any moment... me._

_Just once,_  he pleaded to no one in particular,  _just once, couldn't I have a stroke of good luck?_ He pulled the satchel strap over his head as he ran and dropped the bag, to lighten his load and leave him unencumbered.

One guard, not seeing the satchel on the floor in the dim light of his flashlight, stepped onto it while giving chase. He suddenly found himself propelled awkwardly forward as his foot slid out from under him. He managed to break his fall with his arms, but his partner was not so lucky. He tripped over him and fell face first into the hard ground, rendering himself unconscious.

Smith glanced backward and saw the two guards in a heap on the ground and neither looked like they were capable of continuing their pursuit. Never breaking stride, he looked skyward and mouthed a quick "thank you" as he cut down a corridor toward the motor pool.


	23. Freedom!

By the time Smith met up with T'pat near the hover bikes, his energy was seriously flagging.

"I see you managed to lose your pursuer rather expeditiously. You hardly look winded," Smith stated.

"I had some help," T'pat replied, as he unplugged two hover bikes from their charging stations.

The look on Smith's face urged him to continue. "My path to escape took me past one of the monitoring stations. It had been completely demolished. There was a low hanging beam I just barely managed to see in time and I ducked. My pursuer didn't. I imagine you had something to do with all that."

"Long story," Smith smirked. "I suggest we get the hell out of Dodge."

"Dodge?"

"Another long story."

"Ah," T'pat nodded.

"And if you want to live long enough to hear it..."

The sight of two dozen guards entering the motor pool was enough to quiet their friendly banter. The two hopped on to their hover bikes and sped off toward the northern gate, their new pursuers not far behind.

...

Meanwhile, the Professor and Will had reached the Chariot. The Professor lifted his son and placed him in the vehicle. He quickly hopped in and took up position in the rear with one of the laser rifles Smith had given them at the armory. Will took up position next to his father as the Major got them moving as fast as the Chariot would travel.

Everyone was glad to be putting distance between them and the base, but as they looked down upon the imposing fortress from the relative safety of the hill, each of them spared a thought for the friend they had left behind. There was a noticeably empty spot in the Chariot without him.

The Major glanced back at the base to apprise himself of the situation. His heart skipped a beat as he saw guards streaming out, firing upon prisoners. Some prisoners fired back, but many were unarmed. The Professor took aim and, like a practiced sniper, took down some of the guards from a distance, concealed by the thick foliage atop the hill. Unfortunately, his actions didn't go unnoticed for long and a few guards on hover bikes broke off their attack on the prisoners and headed for the Chariot. The Professor egged them on, taking shots at them, preferring to face them in a fair fight than continue to let them harm unarmed innocents.

...

As Smith and T'pat neared the northern gate, they saw the massive doors swinging shut. Smith glanced quickly behind him and ducked to avoid laser fire from his pursuers. T'pat suppressed some of the fire with a few shots of his own. Smith aimed his pistol intently at the control panel next to the gate and fired. A shower of sparks signaled he'd hit his mark and the massive doors swung open again. The two throttled up and sped single file through the gate at full speed.

"T'pat! Close the gate!" Smith ordered.

T'pat took aim, as Smith had, at the control panel on the other side of the door. Try as he might, he couldn't hit the target.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "It's not as easy as you made it look," T'pat admitted.

Smith smiled, mostly from T'pat's admission, but also from the plan forming in his mind. "Never fear! Smith is here!" he crowed. "Follow me!" he ordered as he veered sharply left. He tapped his comm device. "M'jek! We're headed in your direction and we have a few unwelcome guests. Please stand ready."

M'jek confirmed receipt of the orders and relayed them to the armed Asmani in his company. Both he and the Grand Master took up their own arms and readied themselves as they watched Smith and T'pat approach from a distance.

The Grand Master shook his head. "That sounded like... but it couldn't be. He's dead. I must be hearing things. I swear that sounded like Doctor Smith."

M'jek nodded his head. "Yes, your excellency. That was Smith."

The look of relief and excitement on the Grand Master's face didn't go unnoticed. "How?" he inquired.

M'jek smiled. "I couldn't let him die, your excellency. He was in the military on the world he came from. He was too skilled, too important to our cause, to let Mal J'hat have his way. I carried out Mal J'hat's orders, but as soon as Mal J'hat left the execution chamber, I resuscitated him. Doctor Smith planned and executed all of this."

A wide grin washed across the Grand Master's face. "I knew there was a reason I liked him."

"Here they come. Stand ready, men!" M'jek yelled.

Smith and T'pat sped through a narrow gap in the crowd of Asmani. As their pursuers approached, the Asmani opened fire. Several guards were thrown from their bikes as they were hit by multiple laser blasts. Others leaped from their bikes to avoid the fire. The guards near the back of the pack realized what was happening and veered off, navigating around the crowd, just out of range. M'jek and his men had bought Smith and T'pat some time and distance, but their pursuers continued the chase.

M'jek's comm device squawked with another incoming message from Smith.

"Thank you for the cover, my friend. I suggest you and your countrymen put as much distance between you and the base as possible."

M'jek replied and then quickly mobilized the crowd. Some commandeered the guard's hover bikes. M'jek stayed behind long enough to secure transport for the injured guards that had survived the attack. He traveled with them in the transport and tended to their wounds, while the Grand Master led the others into the hills.

...

"Can't this thing go any faster?" the Professor yelled. He and Will ducked as sparks flew from the laser blasts hitting the Chariot's canopy.

"This is as fast as she'll go," the Major yelled back. "Need some help back there?"

"Yes!" the Professor and Will yelled in unison.

"Judy, can you take the wheel? Just keep it floored and pointed that way." The Major pointed in the general direction of the Jupiter 2. "At some point, you'll have to take us down off of the ridge. Take a gradual line to keep from tipping over."

Judy quickly took over driving, while the Major grabbed a rifle and headed towards the back. Mrs. Robinson and Penny each held a rifle and covered their flanks, should anyone get past the fire the men were laying down.

...

"We'd best split up!" Smith yelled, as he motioned T'pat to veer to the right.

T'pat quickly did as he was told, having come to trust Smith's instincts. Then again, he usually got the better end of the deal when he listened to Smith. This time was no exception. While a few guards peeled off to pursue him, the main pack nipped at Smith's heels.

Smith glanced back and shook his head at his predicament. He turned and fired off a few shots, knocking one guard off his bike. The others scattered to avoid wreckage and quickly regrouped, falling in behind Smith again.

T'pat had seen the main pack pursue Smith and realized he had to lose the guards chasing him and get back to the doctor. As confident as he had grown in Smith's abilities, he knew he was in serious danger and needed help.

Smith recklessly wove around trees and through brush, hoping to gain some distance. As he crested the tree-covered ridge, he spied the Chariot leaving the slope and heading onto the dirt road he'd traveled months ago to get to the base.

The Chariot had its own problems, a pack of guards doggedly pursuing them as well. However, realizing they had superior firepower than he, Smith made a run down the slope towards them in hopes of reuniting with them in the much safer confines of the Chariot.

Unfortunately, Smith's pursuers anticipated his plan and radioed their comrades below. They focused a steady stream of fire up the hill, causing Smith to swing to the north side of the ridge in a desperate attempt to double back.

He glanced back again to gauge his pursuers' positions and fire a few shots. Before he could squeeze the trigger, he howled in pain as laser fire grazed his left leg. His pistol fell from his hand and he clutched at the bike's controls, trying desperately to maintain balance despite the shock.

Fumbling with his comm device, he managed a frantic plea. "T'pat, help! I'm heading north of the ridge. Robinsons on the road, south. We're outnumbered and outgunned. Relay to M'jek. Tell him to send reinforcements... anything he has. NOW!"

Smith ducked a volley of laser fire as his pursuers gained on him. One blast ripped into the comm device on his left arm. He was spared from injury, but the realization that his link to help had been severed made his blood run cold. He swallowed hard and kept low, searching the landscape for options.

He spotted a rock wall, some forty feet high, looming in the distance and headed directly towards it. Smith gripped the steering controls tightly and wrapped his legs around the bike even tighter, pushing the bike for all it was worth.

T'pat sped toward the area Smith had mentioned. He tried desperately to radio that he was on the way, but received no answer.

"M'jek! Smith doesn't answer. Where are your reinforcements? We need them now!"

M'jek's heart fell at the news. "They're on their way. They should arrive in approximately five minutes." He looked toward the Grand Master, who looked every bit as sorrowful as he was. "I... I hope they're not too late."

Their sorrow was short lived, as T'pat radioed he'd found Smith leading a harrowing chase towards the canyon to the north. M'jek and the Grand Master breathed a sigh of relief, but knew things weren't over yet.

Smith's pursuers were suddenly thrown into confusion by laser fire from the rear. T'pat charged heedlessly into the pack, taking down a few guards before they realized what was happening. T'pat watched in horror as Smith headed straight for a rock wall.  _Surely, he has to see it,_  T'pat thought.

At the very last moment, Smith applied the brakes, threw himself nearly sideways, and slammed the steering controls hard to the right. Jolts of pain screamed up his left leg, but he managed to keep his grip. The bottom of the bike lightly scraped the rock as it shuddered through the hard turn. As soon as his bike was clear of the rock, Smith managed to get the vehicle upright and gave it full throttle again. He felt himself grow faint and quickly realized he was holding his breath. He took a deep breath to steady himself and tried to resume breathing normally. In the midst of the chase, with his heart pounding so hard he could feel it, that was anything but easy.

T'pat watched the maneuver in awe and was not surprised that two guards failed in the attempt to duplicate it. The guards behind those unfortunate victims slammed on their brakes, while the guards at the back slowed to make the turn and continued their pursuit.

Smith looked back and realized that although the maneuver had worked, it hadn't taken out nearly as many guards as he had hoped. Nearly a dozen still dogged him. He sped towards the canyon below and hoped he'd have better luck there. He didn't yet realize that help was close at hand.

Four of M'jek's men came in from the east and managed to join up with T'pat near the rear of the pack. Smith's odds were getting better, but they still weren't quite even. He led the chase through the narrow canyon, weaving back and forth to avoid laser fire. T'pat held his men back far enough to not attract attention or laser fire, but close enough to render assistance when needed.

Smith saw what he thought was a break in the sheer cliff on his left and prayed it was a passageway. He waited until the last second and cut sharply down the narrow corridor. His heart jumped to his throat when he realized it was a dead end, perhaps quite literally. The laser fire behind him stopped as the pack knew their quarry was trapped. Smith took his bike to the very end of the corridor and turned to face his pursuers.

The guards advanced on him cautiously and raised their weapons to fire. Smith shut his eyes tightly and awaited the end. He winced when he heard laser fire erupt, but he felt no pain or impact. He opened his eyes in time to see the last of his dozen pursuers fall to laser fire from T'pat and his reinforcements who had come up quietly from behind.

T'pat came running to Smith's side as he sat, in shock, still on his bike. "Are you ok?"

Smith raised his visor and smiled weakly. He borrowed a phrase from his friend. "T'pat, if you weren't so repulsive looking, I'd kiss you." Smith smirked and added, "Oh, what the hell..." He grabbed T'pat's helmet in both hands and planted a kiss on the right side of the visor. He then patted the side of the helmet a few times and asked "What took you so long?"

"I had to follow a trail of destruction to find you," T'pat joked, as he attempted to remove the smudge Smith had left on his visor. "And once I saw that maneuver by the rock wall, well, I figured you had it all under control." He grimaced as he saw his attempts had only made the smudge worse.

Smith smiled briefly, but then turned serious. "It's not under control by any means. The Robinsons still need help. We'd best attend to unfinished business."

"You might need this," T'pat said, handing him a spare laser pistol. "I noticed you weren't returning fire when I caught up with you."

"Yes, I could use one of those," Smith said as he gratefully accepted the weapon. "I lost mine," he said sheepishly. He flipped down his visor, maneuvered his bike to the mouth of the dead end, and waited there for the others.

T'pat jogged back to his bike, as the reinforcements mounted theirs. As soon as they joined him, Smith led the party out of the canyon and back up onto the ridge to locate the Robinsons.

From their vantage point atop the ridge, it didn't take long to find the fleeing Robinsons. Smith's small band was joined by a dozen more of M'jek's men who happened to spot them as they crested the ridge. Smith ordered T'pat and the reinforcements to approach the enemy from behind, while he intended to rendezvous with the Robinsons and join them in the Chariot.

...

The Professor, the Major, and Will all held their own, fighting off attacks, but their pursuers were relentless. Wave after wave came at them, some getting as close as a few feet to the Chariot before they were foiled in their attempts to board.

Another guard pulled parallel to the Chariot and approached cautiously.

Major West took aim at the uniformed figure on the hover bike and prepared to fire.

"No!" Will exclaimed, knocking the barrel of the laser rifle upwards.

West's shot went high, but still managed to connect with the black reflective helmet of the guard. The guard's head whipped sharply sideways in surprise as the beam deflected upward off the helmet. The hover bike veered away and skittered against the rocky hillside, pounding metal and flesh, until the rider managed to gain control of the vehicle again.

"What are you doing, Will?" West demanded an explanation.

"Look! They're shooting at him, too," Will explained.

A look of understanding dawned on the Major's face. "Then he must be on our side!"

"I think it might be T'pat," Will said.

"No," the Major corrected. "I think it's K'val!"

The guard, clearly dazed, had trouble steadying the bike. He looked toward the Chariot to see if any more bolts were headed his way. None were forthcoming from that direction, but the bike took a direct hit from behind. The engine sputtered and the bike began to wobble violently. The rider directed the bike toward the Chariot, intending to make a hasty exit to the more substantial and still mechanically sound vehicle, if they would have him.

West and Will waved the rider over. As the bike neared them, it began to lose speed. Sensing immediate danger, the guard jumped from the damaged craft and onto the side of the Chariot. Major West was waiting to haul their new passenger in. The guard landed on his back with a thud on the floor. The bike disintegrated in a violent explosion twenty yards behind them, taking out several of their pursuers.

Their new passenger struggled to sit up and they aided him, propping him up against the side of the vehicle.

"Will, help me get his helmet off him," West requested.

The two worked the severely damaged helmet off with some difficulty. Underneath it, they found a familiar face.

"Doctor Smith!" West and Will cried in unison.

All heads in the vehicle turned toward them in shock and surprise. Once each had confirmed he was really there with them, smiles broke out on their faces, along with a tear or two.

"Really...Major. Is that how you greet... an old friend? Laser fire? Somehow... I imagined you'd be... happier to see me." Smith struggled to catch his breath and slow his racing heart. He also tried desperately to ignore the pain in his bloodied side and throbbing head.

Will made a move to hug the doctor, but Smith waved him off. As much as he wanted to embrace the lad, he knew it would be physically painful to do so. The boy, thankfully, understood and smiled widely in relief at the sight of his friend.

Confusion clouded the Major's face. "How?... Why?... You're still alive!"

"Your powers of observation... astound me, Major. Yes, I'm still alive," Smith confirmed. "Barely," he added as he groaned in pain.

"We saw your execution," Judy stated, as she turned in the driver's seat to get a good look. "We thought you were dead!"

"My dear Judith... it's a very long story... and one I'd prefer not to recount... while under fire. Suffice it to say... it pays to have friends... in the right places," Smith explained.

"M'jek!" West exclaimed.

"Precisely," the doctor confirmed. He brought a hand to his left temple and massaged the spot where he'd slammed into the hillside. "I'll tell you all about it later," he lied.

Maureen settled next to the doctor with a first aid kit. Smith welcomed her ministrations, despite the added pain it was causing at the moment. "Bless you, my dear lady," he thanked. She simply smiled and nodded. There would be time for an emotional reunion full of sentiment later, once they were out of danger.

West took a few shots at pursuers behind them and voiced his frustration. "Even if we make good our escape, Mal J'hat will just regroup his forces and be back in business soon, making lives miserable again."

"He can hardly do that... from the grave, Major," Smith replied. "Mal J'hat is dead. T'pat had the honor... of dispatching the fiend himself."

At that moment, a large explosion rocked the complex behind them. Several of their pursuers stopped and looked back at their base.

"What was that?" Will exclaimed.

"My sensors indicate that there appears to have been an explosion in the communications substation," the Robot replied.

Another larger blast sent a gigantic fireball skyward as secondary and tertiary explosions ripped through the complex.

"And that was the armory," the Robot confirmed.

West turned to Smith. He eyed the doctor's alien guard uniform suspiciously and asked, "Did you have anything to do with those explosions?"

"What explosions?" Smith countered, struggling to suppress a grin.

"Oh, don't give me that. You couldn't have missed 'em!" West barked.

"Between this splitting headache... the pain in my side... and the ringing in my ears... I must have missed them, Major. You see... somebody shot me in the head with a laser rifle!" The outburst exhausted the already weak doctor. He tilted his head back and closed his weary eyes.

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" West sighed.

"Not in this lifetime, Major," Smith vowed.

The largest explosion of all shook the ground. The shockwave from it thundered through the atmosphere and a mushroom cloud rose high above the complex.

"And that was Mal J'hat's quarters," the Robot confirmed.

All eyes in the Chariot turned towards Smith.

"Ok, you couldn't have missed that one, Smith," West insisted.

Smith's eyes were glued to the gigantic mushroom cloud growing behind them. "No, Major. That one... was kind of hard to miss."

"Gosh! It just about blew the whole base to smithereens!" Will exclaimed.

"Smith-ereens. That sounds about right," the Major quipped. "Weren't you the one who said there'd be nothing left of Mal J'hat if you got his hands on him?" West wondered aloud.

"I don't recall ever saying that," Smith lied. "And if I did, I must not... have been in my right mind."

The Major eyed Smith suspiciously. Smith maintained the most innocent look he could muster and hoped everyone would believe his denials. He also moaned in pain piteously, not that he had to fake it, hoping the Major would have sympathy and cease his interrogation. Smith silently wondered, however, how that single charge could have caused such a catastrophic explosion. It was no different than the other charges he set, or so he thought.

"Look!" the Professor shouted.

All eyes turned towards the back of the Chariot. Most of their pursuers had turned back towards the base.

The Professor took aim at the two dozen or so left behind them, hanging back a short distance.

"No!" Smith shouted. When the Professor looked at him in surprise, Smith explained it was most likely T'pat and his reinforcements.

"T'pat?" the Professor yelled.

At the call of his name, T'pat ordered the others to maintain their distance while he rode ahead.

"Professor, I'm glad to see you all well," he said as he looked into the vehicle. "I see Doctor Smith looks a little worse for wear, but I think he'll live."

The Professor invited the Asmani guard inside the vehicle and he quickly obliged, tethering his bike alongside.

T'pat knelt next to Smith. He raised his visor and winked surreptitiously, a behavior he'd learned from the doctor. He was well aware of Smith's desire not to be connected with any of the escape and he wanted to be sure Smith knew he'd play along. "You're a mess, doctor. After all the trouble M'jek and I went through to save your sorry hide, you go and nearly get yourself killed just trying to ride a hover bike any Asmani child can handle."

"If you had just hailed me a taxi like I had asked, none of this would have happened," Smith quipped.

Everyone laughed at the banter, but mostly from sincere relief at finally being free from the nightmare of the past few months. Their family was now whole again.

Turning serious for a moment, Smith asked, "How is M'jek?"

"Fine. He and the Grand Master managed to get their group far enough away from the base before the explosions. He reported most of the prisoners managed to, as well," T'pat replied.

Smith sighed in relief, though he wouldn't rest well until they could account for all the prisoners, especially the ones he'd grown fond of over the last few months.

"And K'val?" Major West asked, suspicious smirk on his face. He was sure T'pat would inadvertently out Smith as K'val, the one the Professor told him was responsible for sabotaging the backup generator, allowing him to join the escape.

Without missing a beat, T'pat answered the question with a serious face. "Sadly, he was killed... by Mal J'hat himself." He looked upon each of them, one by one as he told the story. "K'val saved my life today. Mal J'hat had me at gun point. He knew when I arrived at his quarters during the blackout that M'jek and I had betrayed him and had planned his destruction. He was about to kill me when K'val arrived just in time to distract him, unfortunately taking laser fire that was meant for me. I quickly avenged his death with my own weapon," he said as he patted his sidearm. "Mal J'hat is no more. Unfortunately, neither is a dear, dear friend who was like a brother to me. K'val was willing to give his life for this day, for your freedom as well as ours." He locked eyes with Smith as he finished. "I can never repay him for his sacrifice."

The story seemed so genuine and so heartfelt that even Smith wanted to believe it. There was also a touch of truth to it that made it all the more believable. Smith glanced around the Chariot and saw T'pat had everyone's full attention. Mrs. Robinson seemed most crestfallen at the news of K'val's death. Even Major West was not unaffected by the story and sat quietly trying to process it in his own way. Clearly, this was not the story the Major was hoping to hear, for he too owed a debt to K'val which he could now never repay. Smith was touched, for he knew the truth that K'val was sitting right there with them and that emotion was for him.

T'pat turned back to Major West. "But today is not a day for sorrow. You are free and Asmani are free. Once we have had a chance to get organized, we will celebrate properly. As is Asmani custom, we will also set aside a day to remember those, like K'val, who are not here to share our jubilation. M'jek and I wish you all to attend. This day would not have been a success without you."


	24. Family Reunion

Anticipation grew as they neared the Jupiter 2 landing site. The Robot scanned the surrounding area and announced it was safe. Judy brought the Chariot right into the middle of camp. Major West and T'pat jumped out as soon as they came to a stop and helped the women disembark. Major West then climbed back in and helped Smith out of the vehicle. As soon as Smith's left leg hit the ground, it collapsed out from under him. T'pat caught him as he fell. West quickly joined him in supporting the doctor, while T'pat examined his leg.

T'pat spotted the scorch marks of a laser blast near Smith's calf. "You were hit by laser fire. Why didn't you tell me?" he admonished.

"I didn't have a chance," Smith showed him the damaged comm device.

Unfazed, T'pat just added it to the rather long list of other things Smith had recently destroyed. "You're rather hard on equipment, aren't you, doctor?"

West smirked. "You don't know the half of it."

Smith scowled and was about to defend himself vociferously against the Major when T'pat cut him off and radioed for medical assistance. "M'jek, you're needed here at the Robinson camp. Smith is injured."

M'jek answered immediately. "Is it serious?"

"Not life threatening, but I think you need to take a look." T'pat turned to Major West. I think we'd best get him settled in the ship until M'jek gets here. "Can you put any weight on that leg, doctor?"

Smith shifted his weight cautiously and found the slightest pressure caused enough pain to make walking on his own power a herculean effort. "Oh, the pain..." he whimpered as he shook his head. "I'm not getting anywhere by myself, gentlemen." He held his arms out as an invitation for them to support him on their shoulders and they quickly obliged.

After T'pat and Major West took Smith down below and got him comfortably settled into his bed, the two went topside again. T'pat explained that with long range communications disrupted, he and a number of Asmani would be leaving the next morning for the palace to bring them the news of what had happened. Hopefully, it would be received well, but if not, they'd be armed to deal with it. T'pat welcomed Major West and the Professor to join them, but they politely declined, preferring to keep an eye on their own camp and, of course, spend their first night of freedom with their family.

When M'jek arrived, he found Smith in his bed surrounded by the Robinson children. He was listening intently to their stories of what had happened after they had been separated from him and of their flight from the base after the blackout. He, of course, offered very little of his own experiences. He preferred listening to them and, of course, the less they knew of his adventures, the better... for him. The Robot stood like a sentinel at the door of the doctor's cabin, also listening with interest.

"Ah, M'jek," Smith greeted. "Come in."

The Robinson children greeted M'jek eagerly, thanking him for his part in saving Doctor Smith. Will surprised the alien doctor with an enthusiastic and heartfelt hug. He smiled and patted the boy on his shoulder. He knew Smith and the boy had a strong bond and Will's expression of gratitude only confirmed it.

Judy gathered her siblings and escorted them and the Robot out of the cabin. "I think we should give the doctor some room to examine Doctor Smith."

"Thank you," M'jek replied. T'pat entered after they had left and closed the door behind him.

Smith sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, giving the doctor greater access to his damaged left side.

"I certainly hope you brought that potent painkiller with you," Smith groaned.

M'jek withdrew a vial from his bag and held it up for Smith to see. Smith smiled in relief as M'jek measured the dosage and injected it. Sufficiently numbed, Smith allowed the alien doctor to tend to his injuries. M'jek cleaned the wounds and covered them with some sort of synthetic skin. He pulled several familiar devices from his medical bag and situated them on the most injured areas of Smith's body and the unnatural warmth emanating from them signaled they were working.

As M'jek went about his business, Smith asked a question that had been plaguing his mind. He whispered it, in case any prying ears were outside the door. "T'pat, I did not plant a charge sufficient enough to result in an explosion of the magnitude we saw. Do you know what may have possibly caused that?"

T'pat thought a moment and whispered his response. "I was not privy to any of our military research and development. However, I had heard rumors that our engineers had developed a small batch of very powerful explosives that had not yet been tested thoroughly. It is said that Mal J'hat was planning to use such a weapon to bring the nearby Nazur homeworld to its knees and exploit their resources for Asmani gain. It appears there was truth to the rumor and the Robot inadvertently removed it from the armory for your use during the escape."

Smith paled at the thought of having held such a destructive force in the palm of his hand. He was satisfied with the explanation, but still had questions which would have to remain unanswered. To answer them would require a discussion with the Robot and he had no desire to have to wipe the mechanical man's memory yet again to cover his tracks.

M'jek finished up and ordered Smith to stay in bed for at least an hour while the devices helped heal his wounds. "Don't remove those before I return," M'jek admonished.

When Mrs. Robinson and the children saw M'jek and T'pat return to the upper deck, they thanked them again and returned below to keep Smith company.

Smith had allowed himself to drift off into sleep. The stress and strain of the past several weeks combined with the painkiller left him little choice but to succumb and he did so quickly. Will sat next to the bed, keeping himself occupied with reading a book while simultaneously keeping an eye on the slumbering doctor. The Robot stood next to Will, surreptitiously monitoring Smith's vital signs. Judy and Penny were setting the table for dinner, while Mrs. Robinson cooked up something special to celebrate. They all stole occasional glances in the direction of the open door to Smith's cabin. The only noise they heard was the soft snoring of deep, deep sleep and the occasional whirring of the Robot's mechanisms.

"Judy, what do you suppose Doctor Smith was up to after M'jek saved him?" Penny asked.

"Oh, Penny, I don't know. I suppose we'll never know unless Doctor Smith tells us," Judy replied.

"Fat chance of that," the Major added as he descended the ladder, skipping the last few rungs to land with a dull thud. West grinned. "Though knowing him, he was probably eating, sleeping, and avoiding work. You know... the usual." The statement elicited a laugh from the others.

The Professor appeared on the ladder behind him. "Whatever you're cooking smells wonderful, dear."

"Thank you," she replied as she accepted a hug and a peck on the cheek from her husband. "Dinner should be ready in about an hour."

"That's plenty of time for a shower," the Major answered, as he headed to his cabin to retrieve some fresh clothes and his shaving kit. "I can't wait to get rid of this." He scratched an itch buried underneath his beard.

"Leave some hot water for me," the Professor admonished.

"That was the first thing I did when we got back," Judy mused. "Took a hot shower. I feel human again."

"Me too," Penny added.

"As humble as the comforts of our little ship are, I certainly did miss them the past few months," Mrs. Robinson admitted. "A hot shower being near the top of the list."

The Professor poured himself a cup of hot coffee and sat at the table.

"So, how are things outside," Mrs. Robinson asked as she prepared vegetables for a salad.

"T'pat and his men are going to set up camp inside the perimeter of the forcefield tonight. M'jek is in a camp a few miles away, tending to wounded there. You can see fires burning in camps across the plains for miles and miles. It's quite a sight. Most importantly, it's quiet out there, very peaceful." The Professor smiled. Peace was very much what he and his family needed right now.

When dinner was ready, Mrs. Robinson poked her head into Smith's cabin and whispered to Will to go wash up. As he got up to leave, Smith's eyes fluttered open. It took a few moments for him to regain his bearings as he sat up.

"Oh, Doctor Smith, I didn't mean to wake you," Mrs. Robinson apologized.

"It's perfectly alright, madame. Did I hear you correctly? Dinner's ready? I'm simply famished." Smith inhaled, nose to the air. "It smells like you've concocted a delectable repast to celebrate our return to civilized society."

The Robinson matriarch smiled. Smith's enthusiasm for mealtime, and his often amusing use of his extensive vocabulary, reminded her how much she'd missed the man.

"We're having a roast tonight, courtesy of your Asmani friends, doctor. T'pat told me that he had discovered all our food had been plundered by Mal J'hat and his men. So, he took it upon himself to bring us a few roasts and some vegetables to tide us over until we could replenish our stock."

"He's a true friend," Smith stated. "Now, madame, if you'd be so kind as to help me up, I would be only too happy to partake of your, no doubt, sumptuous meal."

Mrs. Robinson laughed as she gave Smith a hand. He groaned as he stood, out of habit, but was relieved to find there really wasn't as much pain as he had anticipated.

"Thank you, my dear," Smith gestured for her to lead the way.

"Doctor Smith?"

Smith turned, as he exited his cabin, to see Will nearby, as if he had been waiting.

"Yes?"

"How are you feeling? I mean, do your injuries hurt much?" Will studied the devices seemingly adhered to Smith's flesh.

"I'm fine, my boy," Smith answered. "There's surprisingly little pain. I'm convinced that M'jek is a miracle worker of the highest order."

Before Smith could continue, Will threw his arms around him in a gentle, but enthusiastic hug. The doctor was taken aback by the spontaneity of it all. He placed a hand on Will's head and stood silently a moment before the boy released his embrace.

"I missed you, Doctor Smith."

Smith bent down to meet Will eye to eye and smiled. "I missed you too, Will."

Will threw his arms around Smith again and Smith returned the embrace.

After a moment, Smith whispered in Will's ear, "As much as I'm glad to see you again, there's a roast on that table over there that I'm also glad to see. We'd better get to it before the Major does or there'll be nothing left for us."

As the two laughed and walked toward the galley, Judy observed "Doctor Smith, it seems Will just reminded us we never officially welcomed you back to the land of the living." She gave Smith a hug and he was quickly embraced by the rest of the Robinson women. The Professor shook the doctor's hand and patted his shoulder, as did Major West.

"I'll be big enough to admit, I'm glad you're back, Smith," the Major announced. "Though I have to say, you sure came up with one hell of an excuse to get out of work this time."

Smith grinned wickedly. "I suppose being dead does have its advantages, Major. For instance, I didn't have to put up with  _you_."

The Major's face lit up at the insult and he rubbed his hands together in anticipation of a round or two with the doctor.  _Oh, boy. Here we go_ , he thought. "Well, doctor, you'll be happy to know..."

The Professor cut off the Major's retort. "Later, boys. It's dinner time." The rest of the family laughed and prepared to dig in to their first real meal in months.

Major West shot Smith a look that said "I'll deal with you later." Smith responded with his own look that said "Do your worst."


	25. Fond Farewells

"Madame, you have once again outdone yourself," Smith said while gently patting his satiated stomach. He took a sip of the wine, which T'pat had also graciously provided. His gaze wandered around the table as he studied the faces of his companions one by one.

The Professor caught the smile on the doctor's face. "What is it, Doctor Smith?"

The question shook Smith from his reverie. "What? Oh, nothing. It's nothing."

"C'mon, Smith. Why are you grinning like an idiot?" the Major asked.

Smith's grin grew wider. "If you insist on knowing, Major..."

"I do."

Smith took a deep, deliberative breath while he considered his words. "I was just thinking... It was only a few short months ago, I awoke to find myself utterly alone on this strange planet. You all had been taken from me. I never thought I'd see your smiling faces again." The doctor paused a moment. "I am truly grateful to be safe, in the Jupiter 2, among all of you again. Yes, even you, Major. I consider it a miracle that we all escaped unscathed."

"Well, most of us," the Major pointed to the doctor's left side.

"Yes, well... I can tell you from experience, sustaining a few scrapes and bruises is considerably preferable to being dead." For a brief moment, the memories of Smith's afterlife meeting with his loved ones flitted through his consciousness. The feeling of helplessness at having to leave his companions behind disturbed him once more.

The haunted look that flashed briefly across the doctor's face gave the others pause. They would probably never know what happened to him, but it was clear it had had an impact on him.

The Professor broke the awkward silence. "I propose a toast," he declared as he rose his glass. "To..." he glanced around the table while searching for the perfect thing to toast. He smiled when he found it. His eyes rested on Doctor Smith. "To family."

"To family," everyone repeated as they clinked their glasses together and drank.

...

After dinner, Will, Penny, and Judy, exhausted from the day's momentous events, went to bed. Smith went outside for a visit with T'pat. The Professor and Major joined him. Mrs. Robinson promised to join them as soon as she was done cleaning up from dinner.

The Professor and Major took up residence near the Asmani campfire, both with fresh cups of coffee in hand. They made small talk with the others while Smith took T'pat aside for a private talk.

"T'pat, there's something I want you to have," Smith announced as he fished something from his pocket.

"I believe this belongs to you," Smith said. He took T'pat's hand, placed the item in it, and closed his fingers around it.

"T'pat opened his hand to look at the item and his eyes widened in surprised. He tried to hand it back to Smith. "This isn't mine."

"It most certainly is," Smith replied.

"You don't understand. This medallion is meant for Asmani leadership. Only our leader may wear it. It was Mal J'hat's. Where did you get it?"

Smith smiled and refused to take it back. "I know exactly what it is, T'pat. M'jek told me about it. I took it from J'hat before we fled the base. It's yours. Keep it. You've earned it."

"No. I can't. It is only for our chief, someone who is smart enough, strong enough, and brave enough to lead our people."

"Well, that disqualifies Mal J'hat," Smith joked, "but I think you're amply qualified."

T'pat looked into Smith's eyes and saw sincerity there. "I... I don't know what to say." He thought a moment. "By all rights, this should go to the Grand Master."

"I've heard the Grand Master doesn't want the job." Smith grasped his friend's shoulder. "Just say you'll consider it."

T'pat looked down at the medallion he held in his hands and ran a finger over the intricate design. Finally, he nodded. His gaze rose to meet Smith's. "I've come to trust your judgment. I will consider it."

"That's all I ask," Smith replied.

They rejoined the others. T'pat showed his men the medallion. A cheer went up and several of them congratulated the guard with hearty pats on the back.

"What happened?" Major West asked.

One of the Asmani replied, "T'pat holds the Asmani medallion of leadership. We have all been graced by the presence of the next Asmani leader, a just and temperate leader."

"I only said I would consider it," T'pat corrected.

The others teased him for even considering turning down such a lofty office.

The Major looked at Smith who was standing unobtrusively off to the side. He suspected the wily doctor had something to do with this, just as he still suspected the doctor had much more to do with the whole rebellion than he was letting on.

Smith caught the Major's look and flashed the most innocent look he could muster.

"Your people would be blessed to have you as their leader, T'pat," the Professor stated.

"They surely would," Mrs. Robinson agreed as she joined her husband.

"They could certainly do much worse," Smith remarked. "In fact, they already have."

The Asmani erupted into laughter. A raucous round of curses, both verbal and physical were unleashed at the mention of Mal J'hat. M'jek arrived just in time to hear some of the more colorful ones.

M'jek smiled as he spotted Smith looking much better than he'd found him earlier.

"You're looking well, Doctor Smith."

"I'm feeling well, M'jek."

As M'jek began removing the devices from Smith's left side, Smith remarked, "You know, we could use such devices on the Jupiter 2. You must show me how they work. Perhaps between Will, the Robot, and I, we could find a way to build one for ourselves."

M'jek handed Smith two of the devices. "Keep them." He lowered his voice to a whisper, "Consider them payment rendered for your assistance."

Smith accepted the devices, but thought a moment, somewhat puzzled. "You saved my life. I thought my assistance was repayment to you. I thought we were 'even'," he whispered back.

"As far as I'm concerned, we could never repay you for what you've done. This will have to do."

Smith graciously accepted the devices. "Thank you, my friend."

"You're very welcome," M'jek replied. "I hate to impose on you, doctor, but we could use your help at the makeshift clinics we've set up. There are quite a number of wounded and not enough medical personnel to treat them all."

"Of course," Smith answered.

"I will send someone for you tomorrow. As your doctor," M'jek grinned, "I insist you get a full night's rest first."

Smith nodded. With the fatigue he was feeling, he had no doubt he would comply with his doctor's orders.

...

The crew of the Jupiter 2, with the exception of Doctor Smith, spent the next morning taking inventory, inspecting the ship, cleaning, and starting repair work. Smith had left early to assist M'jek at the various clinics that had been set up in the dozens of camps that dotted the plains.

In addition to their medical work, they took a census of the survivors and devised a system to reunite families and friends. Smith was relieved many of the aliens he'd grown fond of had survived the tumult, including Kress, whom he'd spotted nursing wounded at one of the clinics. Still, there were more casualties than Smith deemed "acceptable", some killed by Asmani guards and many more by the explosions. Many of the dead he had known, including the strong, but generally docile Kir Gal who had hid him from guards. He couldn't help but feel somewhat responsible. M'jek seemed to sense this and often reminded him of how many he saved. Without his help, they were all doomed to a dreary existence and eventual death in captivity. Smith shoved the negative thoughts aside as he cared for his patients. He'd saved the ones that mattered most and decided to console himself with that.

Meanwhile, T'pat had successfully delivered news of the defeat of Mal J'hat to the palace site without incident. The population there pledged to help rebuild their society under new leadership. T'pat worked closely with the Grand Master, who encouraged T'pat all too eagerly to accept the leadership role Smith had recommended him for, the one he himself did not want.

...

Once the situation had stabilized, the Asmani planned a grand celebration of their newfound freedom. All work ceased to prepare for it. The Asmani scavenged what they could from the ruins of the base and from the palace. The Robinsons and many of the aliens contributed what they could find or hunt down in the nearby woods. Smith and M'jek spent their time building a still and brewing up some potent concoctions. Artisans from the various cultures worked on creating some of their native instruments, carving and sculpting monuments to the occasion, and otherwise contributing their talents in whatever ways they could.

When everything was ready, all that could attend met in the center of the plains. There, they shared food, drink, stories, music, and the best each culture had to offer. What was planned for one day turned into three, as no one wanted it to end. The event was like a salve to deep wounds, a healing most thought would never come.

On the fourth day, they remembered those who were not there to celebrate with them, including K'val, to bring closure to a horrific ordeal. Each culture held memorials according to their custom. The Robinsons, fortunate that their party was whole, attended memorials for friends. It was too much for Smith to bear, so he slipped away to a quiet spot with a bottle of M'jek's finest to remember in his own way, in solitude.

With the last of the memorials over, the celebration was declared over and everyone returned to the work of rebuilding.

When everything had been assessed, the Major broke the news to the Robinsons that repairs to the Jupiter 2 would take a few months. The revelation brought mixed feelings. On the one hand, they wanted to leave the scene of their worst nightmare as quickly as possible, and the bad memories with it. On the other, they'd be leaving new friends they would sorely miss.

Upon hearing the plight of the Jupiter 2, Asmani engineers divided their efforts, dedicating time and materials to help the Robinsons on their way as well as building and repairing ships to return the former prisoners to their home planets.

M'jek and Smith were busy as well, with plans for a hospital for the Asmani and aliens that chose to remain on the planet as settlers, the newest of Asmani citizens. With the efforts of an eager and talented construction crew, the new hospital was built and ready for business in short order. While repairs to the Jupiter 2 continued, Smith spent most of his time helping M'jek at the hospital, returning to the ship for occasional meals and rest from his duties.

As repairs to the Jupiter 2 neared completion, Smith scaled back on his duties at the hospital, in anticipation of lift-off. Despite his knowledge of the affection the Robinsons held for him, a small part of him couldn't help but worry they'd take off without him.

With a week left to go until their ship was space-worthy, M'jek arrived in the Robinson's camp. He was there on business and not just a visit. He found the entire Jupiter 2 party sitting at a table outside, enjoying a meal together in the pleasantness of the sunny day.

"Doctor Smith, I'm sorry to disturb your meal, but I wish to speak with you," M'jek announced.

"What is it?" Smith answered.

M'jek hesitated a moment, uncomfortable about saying what he had to say in front of the others. "Well, I... I wished to ask you if you would consider staying here as chief physician of our hospital. We have decided to dedicate the structure in your name."

Smith's eyebrows rose in surprise, as did that of the others sitting at the table. He quickly stood. "I think, perhaps, this is something we should discuss in private." He grabbed M'jek's elbow and guided him to a spot out of earshot.

A quiet conversation broke out at the table, speculating on Smith's response. Will sat quietly, worrying he was about to lose his friend again.

"M'jek, I think you have already surmised my answer, but deemed it necessary to ask anyway, in the hope I might surprise you," Smith answered.

"Yes," M'jek answered, dejected. "I had hoped there was a chance, but I realize you would not go through so much trouble for them only to leave them." He sighed heavily.

"I am truly flattered by the offer," Smith replied, "but  _you_  would make a more fitting chief physician."

M'jek smiled. "Well then, will you at least do us the honor of spending your last days teaching your medical knowledge to our young medical staff?"

Smith's eyes lit up. "The chance to mold young minds and impart my knowledge to them? I can't resist the opportunity."

"Can you come immediately? I understand your timetable to lift-off is very short, so time is of the essence."

"Yes, let me pack a few things and let's be off!" Smith ran eagerly into the ship and reappeared minutes later, suitcase in hand.

The sight of Smith, packed and eager to leave, caused much consternation in the Robinson party.

"Doctor Smith!" Will cried, as Smith neared M'jek's vehicle.

The Professor placed a hand on Will's shoulder. "Now, son, Doctor Smith is free to make his own decisions."

Will shrugged off his father's hand and yelled out to Smith again. Smith turned and was surprised to see the anguish on the boy's face.

"What is it, William?"

"Aren't you even going to say goodbye?"

Smith followed Will's gaze to his suitcase and realization dawned on his face. He dropped the case and walked back to the table.

"Oh, my dear boy, in my haste I seemed to have given the wrong impression. I am not leaving... not permanently. I turned down M'jek's offer of a position at the hospital. I am merely going to teach some of the medical staff for the remainder of our stay here. I  _will_  return. I promise you that."

Will nodded, his frown quickly turning to a smile. Everyone at the table seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

"I will see you all in seven days," Smith declared, then turned to leave with M'jek.

...

True to his word, Smith returned to the Jupiter 2 in seven days, acting quite pompous and self-satisfied. It was quite clear he had enjoyed the attention and notoriety he'd received at the hospital. Before he had left, he had said heartfelt goodbyes to M'jek and T'pat, in case he might not get the chance once he returned to the Jupiter 2.

As the crew of the Jupiter 2 made preparations to lift off, a large crowd of former prisoners gathered around the humans' camp site. Nearly all of the alien species they had come in contact with on the planet were represented. They were there to see the humans off.

The Robinsons, Major West, the Robot, and Doctor Smith stood on and around the ramp to the ship as John Robinson addressed the crowd. He spoke on behalf of his entire party, expressing thanks for everyone's assistance during their ordeal. He reserved special thanks to the Asmani chief medical officer, M'jek, who stood near the front of the crowd.

"Without the daring risks you took, we would have one less member of our family. We thank you for bringing Doctor Smith back to us," the Professor finished.

A cheer rose up from the crowd. Several aliens near M'jek clapped him on the back and offered their gratitude as well. He smiled, somewhat embarrassed at the unexpected attention he was receiving.

As things quieted down, a lithe female figure sauntered through the crowd, which parted for her as she neared the Jupiter 2. It was Kress.

Smith spotted her in the crowd and his breath caught for a moment. A big grin spread across his face, the hope that she was headed for him his only thought.

She stopped in front of him and his heart started to race. "Doctor Smith, the Utak are very grateful to you and your family for helping us gain our freedom. I have been chosen as a representative of my people to thank you."

West whispered to the Professor, "Why does  _he_  get all the thanks?"

The Professor whispered back, "Because  _we_  would get in serious trouble for accepting that kind of 'thanks'."

West only grumbled in response.

Smith looked to the Professor on his right and the Major on his left. "Strictly in the interest of 'research', gentlemen."

"Oh, brother," West muttered. "Smith, I don't think it's a good idea for you to..."

Before the Major could finish, Kress had wrapped her arms around the doctor and pulled him in for a deep kiss. He slid his hands around her waist and closed his eyes in anticipation. Another cheer rose up from the crowd, accompanied by several alien equivalents of "wolf whistles". Smith accepted her willingly and her tongue darted unobstructed through his lips to gently pierce the soft upper palate of his mouth. Once again he felt a rush of warm, tingling sensations envelop his body as the drug she had just administered quickly took effect. His eyelids became heavy and he began to lose himself in the feeling. Just as he was about to completely surrender, he felt her tongue tangle with his for a moment and then delicately puncture the soft tissue under his tongue.

Kress withdrew and whispered breathily into his ear, "This will be  _very_  special."

Before Smith's brain could register her comment, his body shuddered and his eyes rolled back in his head. A low, throaty moan of pleasure accompanied the lopsided grin that tugged at his lips. His legs turned to jelly and the Professor and Major West caught him as he lost consciousness.

Kress smiled seductively and caressed Smith's face with slender fingers one last time. She decided that while she'd miss all the humans she'd met, she'd miss this particular one the most. She waved goodbye to the crew of the Jupiter 2 and sauntered back to the midst of the crowd.

The Major couldn't help but watch as Kress left. He exhaled loudly and shook his head slightly to rid himself of the thoughts she inspired.  _Smith, you lucky bastard_ , he thought and for a moment wondered what pleasant thoughts were currently occupying the doctor's brain. He quickly brought himself back to the present.

"Uh, we should probably get sleeping beauty here all strapped in for the ride," West suggested as he readjusted his grip on the slumbering doctor.

"Yes, let's. He's getting heavy," the Professor concurred.


	26. The Truth According to Doctor Smith

When Smith awoke, it was in his own bed. The last thing he could remember was being in Kress' embrace and he realized they must have lifted off while he was unconscious. He rose and opened his door to find all was quiet. Everyone, most likely, was asleep.

He made his way to the upper deck and stood staring in quiet reflection at the vast field of stars and nebula. He tried, in vain, to pick out the planet they'd just left, but wherever it was, he couldn't recognize it.

He was startled by a distinctly female voice. "Beautiful isn't it?"

He turned and smiled as Mrs. Robinson stood next to him and stared out into the stars.

"Yes, quite. I never appreciated the true beauty of it until now," he confessed.

"Sometimes," she mused, "we get so wrapped up in all the mundane every day things that we fail to see the beauty all around us."

"Or wrapped up in ourselves, madame."

"Yes, that too," she smiled at the doctor's admission. "Hardship can sometimes bring out the best in those that you might not expect it from. I want to thank you, Doctor Smith, for helping Will and for forging friendships with those who helped us escape. Without you there, I'm not sure we'd be here right now."

She placed a hand on his arm as she spoke. He smiled and patted her hand, then gave it a gentle squeeze. The gesture sparked something in her mind, a memory from a few short days ago and she smiled back.

"Doctor Smith, could you do me a favor?"

"Of course, my dear lady," he replied.

"When you get the chance, thank K'val for me as well."

Smith's eyebrows rose in surprise. "But..."

She leaned in close and whispered, "Don't worry, it'll be our little secret." With a smile and a wink, she went below deck, leaving Smith both perplexed and a little relieved that  _someone_  knew. And that someone would not only keep his secret, but was grateful.

...

The next morning, the Major cornered the Professor, intent on a serious discussion.

"John, I'm telling you, Smith had a lot more to do with all this than he's letting on. That story T'pat told about K'val sidetracked me momentarily, but now my gut is telling me otherwise."

"So, what if he did have something to do with it?" the Professor responded. "If you're correct, we owe him our lives, Don. If he chooses not to acknowledge it, I think it's only right for us to honor that and let him be."

"But John, you saw what happened to the Asmani base. If that was Smith's doing, he's capable of a lot more than we realized. He was certainly capable of... of..."

"Of what?" the look on the Professor's face warned the Major to tread lightly. He knew what his friend was thinking, but he had already forgiven Smith for that transgression. In his eyes, Smith had sufficiently atoned for it.

"Nevermind," the Major grumbled. He was fighting a losing battle with the Professor. He'd have to confront Smith himself.

...

Smith was on the upper deck, playing chess with Will, when the Major found him. The rest of the family was in the vicinity, entertaining themselves in whatever manner they could. The Major pulled up a chair and sat down to watch.

"Good day, Major," Smith greeted.

"Hi, Don," Will added.

"Better be careful, Will," the Major warned. "This one here's a wily one," he motioned a thumb in Smith's direction.

Will laughed. "I think it's Doctor Smith who'd better be careful," he countered. "In three moves, I'll have him right where I want him."

"Oh, you will, will you? We'll just see about that," Smith made his move and Will frowned as he took one of his rooks. "Check."

The Major laughed. "See that, Will? He has a habit of destroying castles. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Smith's brow furrowed. "Just what is that supposed to mean, Major?" he said indignantly.

"Oh, nothing. Just, when you get near them, they have a tendency to explode," the Major laughed.

"Now, see here, Major," Smith barked. "I had nothing to do with what happened to the Asmani base. The Asmani were quite capable of doing that all on their own. I just stayed in the sick bay and minded my own business like I was told."

"You know, Smith, for some reason, I don't believe you," the Major replied. "I think it's more than coincidence they seemed to use the exact same plan you told John and I about."

"Where do you think I got it, Major?" Smith countered.

"Oh, come on, Smith. Admit it. You planned the whole thing, if not outright executed it yourself," the Major asserted. "And another thing, I don't think you just 'happened' to have medical supplies on you when you got captured. I think you deliberately tried to get captured, so you could tend to Will. And once inside, I think you went right to work on figuring out an escape. Oh, you had a us fooled, Smith. For years, you had us fooled, but now I see what you're capable of. Being trapped on the Jupiter 2 may have been an accident, but it wasn't so innocent, was it?"

The Major's accusation garnered the attention of the Robinsons and they all gathered around to watch the confrontation. Though they each had their own opinions, they kept quiet and let things develop. Even the Professor hesitated to rein in his friend, despite the conversation they'd had earlier.

Smith sat dumbfounded for a moment. He had hoped it wouldn't come to this. He had taken what precautions he could to avoid it. His mind searched for an answer, as he noticed all eyes were on him. When he found the answer, a satisfied grin crept across his face.

"Ok, Major. I admit it. I admit it all. You caught me," Smith said, his voice dripping with sarcasm and disdain. "You're right. Ultimately, I couldn't fool you, you clever man. You figured it out. All these years of me running from danger was just a show to throw you off the track. All the equipment I  _accidentally_ destroyed, all the times I ruined our chances at rescue or unwittingly led us into the hands of hostile aliens or got myself into dire trouble that required you to get me out, it was all merely a ruse to convince you of my incompetence. I couldn't have you knowing that I was really a brave, dashing, intelligent super spy bent on your destruction, now could I?"

The Robinsons burst out laughing, as the mental image Smith painted was just too ridiculous to entertain, even if they did believe the doctor capable of sabotage.

"Smith," the Major growled in warning.

Smith paused a moment, but not in heed of the Major's warning. "Now that the cat's out of the bag, so to speak, Major, I'm sure you are simply dying to know how I managed to use my unique talents to rescue you all, aren't you?"

The look on the Major's face made it clear he was unhappy. This wasn't quite going the way he'd expected. The Major's disappointment only egged Smith on and the others were only too eager to listen.

"Well, first, I had to locate you all. I assumed I would need the Robot's invaluable assistance for that, so my first priority was to repair him." Smith leaned in close to the Major and whispered, "Now, don't tell anyone, my good man. This is top secret information I'm entrusting you with." Smith looked around cautiously as if enemy ears were listening, "I know how to repair the Robot." He sat back and smiled, then shifted his eyes back and forth as if to see if anyone had heard his secret. He held a hand to the side of his mouth to shield the sight of his lips from the others, as if telling another secret. "It's true. I worked on him at Alpha Control, programmed him myself."

"That is a correct statement. You did indeed work on me at Alpha Control," the Robot interrupted. "However, Doctor Smith, your involvement in my creation is hardly top secret information."

Smith suppressed a laugh while the Major rolled his eyes and answered, "I know that, Robot. Doctor Smith is being a smart ass."

The Robot knew full well what Doctor Smith was up to and he intended to help the embattled doctor in whatever manner he could. Like the Robinsons, he'd seen a different side of the man during this ordeal, and the human qualities the Robot possessed, however he had acquired them, compelled the Robot to defend his friend. For, if it wasn't for the doctor, the Robot might not be there either.

"Major!" Smith bellowed with false indignation. "I am simply telling you what you wish to know. There's no need for name calling. Now where was I?" He brought a hand to his chin, as if he was deep in thought. "Ah yes, repairing the Robot." Smith went on to give a detailed account of his repairs, including slicing his hand open and his impromptu theatrical performance.

The Robinsons sat in silence, fascinated and entertained by the doctor's tale. The Major was silent too, completely exasperated, but he let the man continue in the hope he'd find some nugget to latch on to that would convict the pompous wind bag.

"Next, I had to scout out the area. What better place than the mountain to the north of camp? Now, Major, I had no inclination to climb that beast. As you very often point out, I'm simply not in the physical condition required. So, I borrowed the jet pack and made it to the summit, and not without difficulty. The fuel was exhausted only feet from my goal. I managed to make it to a ledge, but nearly met my demise as the weight and unwieldy nature of the jet pack dragged me toward the cliff's edge. Fortunately, I was able to free myself in time, though unfortunately the jet pack was lost in a crevice, a fate I surely could have shared."

"Aha!" the Major jumped up. The jet pack!" He pointed at Smith. "If the jet pack is missing, this  _proves_  everything."

"It  _proves_  nothing, Major, except that the jet pack is missing."

"We'll see about that," the Major raced off to check for the jet pack.

Smith smiled and waited patiently, for he knew something the Major did not. The Robot had retrieved and repaired the jet pack the day after the incident. He glanced at the Robot, who sat silent, giving nothing away.

A few minutes later, the lift appeared with the Major on it. His face was sullen and in his hands, he carried the jet pack.

"Well, Major, it appears you found the jet pack! How fortunate," Smith said cheerily.

The Robinsons weren't quite sure what to think. The Major, however, had plenty on his mind.

"Smith, you're sitting there lying through your teeth and leading me on a wild goose chase. So help me, I'm gonna..."

The Robot picked that moment to interrupt. "Major West, I do not detect any deception in Doctor Smith's voice."

"Thank you, ninny. You're a true friend," Smith complimented.

"Yeah, well, a complete sociopath could fool your sensors, Robot."

"Major, I believe  _I'm_  the psychiatrist here. I may be many things, but I'm not a sociopath, that you can be sure of."

"He could have reprogrammed the Robot," the Major suggested.

"Ah, you do have a point, Major. I have admitted I know how to program the Robot. That's exactly what I did, reprogrammed the Robot," he glanced over to the mechanical man.

"Doctor Smith, I detect deception in your voice," the Robot replied.

"Or maybe I didn't reprogram the Robot," Smith added with a grin.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you, Smith?" the Major asked, somewhat defeated.

"Immensely," Smith admitted.

The Major sighed heavily. "I'll find something in your story, Smith. Something. Please... continue."

Smith nodded appreciatively. "As I was saying, I narrowly avoided meeting my demise on that mountain, not once, but twice. Having lost the jet pack," Smith grinned, "I was forced to climb down. Everything went quite well until I came to a path that had been eroded away, leaving a quite sizable gap. Knowing it was my only way down and that failure to get off that mountain would leave you all to an uncertain fate, I took the leap. I nearly made it, but fell a little short. I struggled to pull myself up on the other side, but gravity worked against me. Did I mention, Major, that I'm simply not in the physical condition required for such an adventure?"

The Major nodded with a roll of his eyes.

Smith stood and placed his hands on atop the torso of the Robot. "If it weren't for my good friend here, coming to my rescue in the Space Pod, I wouldn't be standing here today."

The Professor piped up and questioned the Robot. "Robot, after our crash landing, was the Space Pod accessible?"

"Negative, Professor Robinson. The hatch was damaged in the crash," the Robot reported.

"But the hatch was repaired when we returned to the ship," the Major added.

"That is correct," the Robot answered. "I repaired the hatch while Doctor Smith was away from the camp." The statement was essentially true, however, the Robot failed to mention Smith was on the mountain at the time. He let the Major assume it was when Smith had been captured.

"Shall I continue?" Smith queried.

The Major nodded.

"I'll spare you some of the dreary details, but suffice it to say, the ninny here is responsible for my capture."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." The Professor stepped between the two. "Does it matter who's responsible? Please, continue your story, Doctor Smith."

"Are too," Smith whispered.

The Robot's bubble dropped in defeat, as he didn't dare interrupt after the Professor had given Doctor Smith the floor.

"After such feats of strength and derring do, Major, I was looking forward to some delightful rest and relaxation in the fine accommodations the Asmani provided us."

"I could do without the sarcasm, Smith," the Major complained.

"I can't," Smith said smugly. "Now, listen closely, Major, because we're about to get to the best part." Smith punctuated the words to follow by jabbing an index finger into the air with each word. "How... I... did it." He paused for effect. "You all know much of what went on while I was there, as I was with you in the stockade, but you have no idea what went on behind the scenes." He leaned in closely toward the Major again. "You're not going to believe this."

"I'm sure I won't," the Major replied. "I'm not sure I believe any of this so far."

_Good_ , Smith thought. "I don't blame you, Major. I hardly believe it myself," Smith admitted. "It  _is_  quite a fantastic tale. I assure you, what I'm telling you is completely true." Smith stood up, excused himself for a moment, and went to the galley for a glass of water, which he brought back to his seat. He took a few sips and continued.

"While all of you stayed in the stockade, I managed to elude the guards and, as they say, 'case the joint'. I even managed to get a look at diagrams and layouts."

The Major interrupted, "I tried the same thing and got nowhere. T'pat watched me like a hawk."

"That's because you've never had super spy ninja training like I have, Major," Smith replied.

The Robinsons laughed while Major West only grumbled.

"Although... it's quite possible that M'jek and T'pat told me of their plans to overthrow Mal J'hat and  _gave_  me information. I then gave  _you_  information which aided you in your escape. I simply can't remember everything clearly."

Being the master of deception that he was, Smith chose his words carefully. Technically, it was true his Asmani friends had given him information, but not the information he had shared with the Professor and the Major. That, he had procured on his own.

"I spent much of my time there in complete terror, which as you may know, can affect your mind, including your memory." Smith paused a moment. "Oh, wait. I've already admitted to being a brave and dashing super spy. I couldn't possibly have been that terrified," he grinned.

"Is this going to take much longer?" the Major complained. Smith's arrogance and sarcasm was really started to irritate him.

"Would you like the abridged version, Major?" Smith offered.

"Yes, please."

"Very well. As you already know, after Mal J'hat had me... executed, M'jek resuscitated me. When I regained consciousness, he asked me to help them overthrow Mal J'hat and free the prisoners. Seeing as I owed my life to M'jek, and knowing I possessed the super spy ninja skills they required, I agreed. So, using my considerable intelligence and incomparable computer skills, I proceeded to hack into the Asmani computer system, crack their encrypted security passwords, and evade their formidable security measures to break into the armory and steal explosives."

"Excuse me, Doctor Smith," the Robot interrupted. "Do you realize, given your physical condition, age, character traits, and past behavior, the odds of you actually accomplishing all these feats are astronomical."

"Are they now?" Smith asked, incredulous. "Hmmm. Well, there's your verdict, Major. The Robot does not believe I am capable of what you are suggesting." Smith turned toward the Robot. "Have you no faith in me, ninny?" he asked in a most wounded voice.

The Robot's bubble popped up suddenly. Smith couldn't tell if it was indicative of surprise, indignation, or any number of the other human qualities the Robot had come to possess.

"Robot, has Doctor Smith been telling the complete truth?" the Professor asked. He had no doubt Smith's story wasn't complete fiction, but he couldn't be positive of what was fact. He knew, however, that the Major would never leave the man alone if he thought any of the story was true. He worded his questions to the Robot as wisely as Smith worded his story, knowing exactly how the Robot would answer them. He suspected some collusion and plenty of performance between the two.

"Negative," the Robot replied. He wondered if the Professor would follow up with a question asking what Smith had been dishonest about. He couldn't be completely sure, but he surmised Smith had never actually had ninja training.

"You cut me to the quick, you traitor!" Smith exclaimed.

The Robot's bubble dropped down again and he backed away slightly from the doctor.

"Robot, do you have a suggestion as to what might have happened?" the Professor asked.

"Affirmative, Professor. I suggest it is much more likely that T'pat and M'jek planned everything and Doctor Smith, having been cowering in the sick bay, overheard their plans. He is simply trying to take credit for their accomplishments." If the Robot could have winked, he would have. He didn't know what had gone on, since he had no memory after his attempt to enter the base, but he deduced the doctor would be pleased with his theory.

The Professor nodded knowingly. "Well, Don, I'm inclined to believe the Robot." The rest of the Robinsons chimed in their support for the Robot's theory as well.

Don realized the same thing as the Professor. There was some truth, some fiction, and quite possibly a little collusion. He'd likely never know the truth, but he did know he was outnumbered, so he grudgingly accepted the Robot's theory.

"Now see here!" Smith erupted at the Professor. He waved an index finger in the man's face. "I am perfectly capable of being just as brave and resourceful as you and the Major." Smith turned to address to the Major only to find himself nearly nose to nose with the man who had come up behind him. He yelped in surprise and scampered behind the Professor for protection.

The Professor folded his arms and smiled at the Major.

"I rest my case," the Robot replied somewhat smugly. The pronouncement elicited laughter, even from Major West.

West smiled and shook his head. "Ok, Robot. I believe you." The Major leaned to look behind the Professor and addressed Smith. "Smith, at the very least, you're a thief. You just stole an hour of our time."

"Not as heinous a thief as you, Major. You stole several months."

"What on earth do you mean?"

Smith flashed a wicked smile. "We never would have been in this predicament if our incompetent pilot, and I use the term 'pilot' rather loosely, hadn't crashed us on this god forsaken planet to begin with."

West's eyebrows rose in surprise at the comment. He saw the tiniest twitch of Smith's lip upward before the doctor suppressed it. "Oh, ho, Smith... " he rubbed his hands together in anticipation. The Professor wasn't going to be able to stop him this time, even though he stood between him and his intended target. As he wound himself up for battle, it occurred to him he had missed his sparring partner even more than he ever imagined he would. West realized Smith did too, as he was clearly baiting him. He could tell by the gleam in his eye. He was going to enjoy this, thoroughly.

"You want to talk about incompetence..." he said, as he skirted around the Professor to take a swipe at the doctor.

"Now, Major..." Smith tried to reason with the man as he slowly backed up, holding his hands up in appeasement.

Major West flashed his own wicked smile before he went after Smith in earnest. Smith took off running, making a circuit of the deck, using various members of the Robinson party and the Robot as cover during his flight.

"I think we should be reasonable adults, Major," Smith suggested. "I'm willing to apologize if you are."

"I think I should wring your neck, Smith," the Major countered, as he faked a move to one side of Judy and then cut to the left between her and Penny. Smith made a mad dash for the ladder to the deck below.

The Robinsons laughed at the spectacle and followed the two to see who would be the victor.

"Major, put that down! I warn you!"

They heard the slam of a cabin door as the first of them started to reach the lower deck. The Major stood grinning outside the doctor's quarters, pounding a ladle into the palm of his hand.

"Don? I'm going to need that ladle for dinner. I'm making soup," Mrs. Robinson declared. She handed him a spatula. "I'll trade you."

The Major laughed and accepted the trade.

Smith peeked out of the cabin door, only to see his tormenter still standing there. "Did I hear you say dinner, madame?" he asked while keeping a wary eye on the Major.

"Yes, she did, Smith. No soup for you." The Major crossed his arms, as if he was daring him to pass.

Smith's eyes widened comically in surprise and then he slammed the door shut again. From inside the cabin, they heard a woeful, "Oh, the pain, the pain..." and no one could suppress their smiles or laughter.

Smith snickered to himself at the way things had played out. For the first time in his life, he told the truth to them about his covert activities. Well, mostly, and they didn't believe it, at least not all of it. He decided he could miss one meal. It was worth it. He lay on his bed and laced his fingers over his stomach. It was  _all_  worth it.

...

**Doctor's Note:** _Well, there you are, dear reader, the completely true and incredible tale of how I saved the Robinsons and Major West from a cruel fate and brought freedom to alien civilizations. Quite inspiring, don't you think? I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I mean, reminiscing about it._

Robot: "I still don't think you had any ninja training."

_Silence, ninny!_

...

**Author's note:** The good doctor and I would like to thank our beta readers (you know who you are) for help shaping this fic. I'd like to reserve special thanks for LadyNRA (on FanFiction.net) for her invaluable assistance in bringing this story to life. Without her beta reading, suggestions, ideas, enthusiasm, similar vision of Doctor Smith, and entertaining stories of her own, this tale would have never been told.


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